


You Can't Spell Awesome Without Me

by Pineau_noir



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: ...Kinda, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Domestic spideypool, Embedded Images, Even if this is Spideypool, Face-Fucking, Fanart, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frotting, Humor, Janet from The Good Place is the hero of this piece, M/M, MJ is from the MCU because Zendaya is fire emoji, Making out like teenagers, Natasha is comic book age, No Deadpool Thought Boxes, Peter is Peter B, Peter is still Spidey, She's just the best, Smut, So many pop culture references, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Spideypool Big Bang 2020, Wade has 1 (one) eyebrow, background Gwen/MJ, but before he gave up on life, if you try, non-powered Wade Wilson, there's no big age gap, too many Mike Schur jokes, you'll see Stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineau_noir/pseuds/Pineau_noir
Summary: On Peter's 30th birthday, he finds a red and black mark over his heart. Then, on his way to his teaching job at Empire State University, a heavily scarred man dies in Peter's arms. The two things don't seem connected until Peter's Spidey Sense goes haywire and his AI, Janet, tells Peter about soul marks.But soulmates are just an urban legend, like Reagan killing all the birds in 1986 and replacing them with spies, right?Meanwhile, Wade is stuck in the hospital, after losing his favorite kidney and briefly being dead. He flirts with his cute nurse (Anthony), gives a false name (Thom Cruz), and learns to live without his precious rightie (his kidney).Peter and the Avengers are on the hunt for the slightly shady man who may or may not be Peter's one-and-only until something unexpected brings them together.Spoiler— it's really dumb and ordinary but Wade lives for the drama of it all: car chases! Illegal drug rings! Exotic animal smuggling! Or as Peter tells it, patrolling and seeing cars go by, accidentally stealing a bottle of ibuprofen from Tony Stark, and finding a stray kitten.Either way it's going to be all the fluff and domestic Spideypool the author can manage.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 136
Collections: Spideypool Big Bang - The 2019 Collection





	1. Everything is Awesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's birthday and the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I finally finished my Spideypool Big Bang! It was a little touch and go there, but to get to this point, I have to lavish praise on everybody who helped. Because I literally would not have this without several people.
> 
> One, [DroptheBeet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropTheBeet/pseuds/DropTheBeet) ([on Tumblr](http://dropthebeet-ao3.tumblr.com)). Omg, just omg my friend. You know when Peter is describing Janet and he says all of those nice things? That's my little love letter to you. Except his is sarcastic and mine is totally true. You've been such an amazing and patient partner in this whole thing, you've literally lifted me up when I thought everything was dumb, you made the most AMAZING ART, you're just a lovely person and it was such a joy being partnered with you. I really cannot say enough good things, this was like a perfect bang. Thank you so so so much! <3
> 
> Two, [Jennicide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yenyen/pseuds/Jennicide), thank you so much for taking this on, while writing your fic too! It's been so great getting to know you and going back and forth with our Spideys and Wades and it's just been such a pleasure to work with you. You're a fantastic writer and beta reader and thank you for the last minute editing while you're under so much stress! Ack! I'm so sorry I was so late, but you're a fucking rock star! I can't wait for your fic to post on February 11 so I can link everybody ([RIGHT HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22466554/chapters/53681137)) because yayayayayay, we did it!!!
> 
> Three, my band of friends, Sable, Rose, and Jay. Seriously, you three are some of my best friends and I know you're not even in this fandom so thank you so much for listening to me prattle on about everything. I love you guys.
> 
> Four, THE MODS. Holy shit! What good modding! Thank you for letting me have a small extension on my draft after I got the plague! Y'all are just amazing and this is the second time I've done this bang and I'm 100% signing up again next year. This is like the highlight of my bangs because it's small and sweet and everyone is so beautiful and nice and kind and it's all due to the atmosphere you, the mods, create. So many kisses and hugs.
> 
> And last but not least, thank you so much to Tsukiwolf and Lucki for all your help! I really really appreciated all your help!!

The day Wade Wilson met Peter Parker was the day he died.

To be fair, he was only dead for thirty seconds, but that didn't stop Wade from answering the question _how did you two meet?_ with _well, I was dead and Petey saved me_. This always caused Peter to sigh and roll his eyes.

"That's not exactly how— " he would start.

Wade being Wade, always interrupted, "Peter Benjamin Parker. I was literally dead."

The story of course, had significantly more _nuance_ than either telling provided.

——

Soul marks were more of a legend than anything. Peter had heard of the sister of a cousin of a husband who found her soul mark on her 21st birthday, but Peter didn’t put much stock in the rumors. Until the day of his 30th birthday when he was about to get in the shower and saw a big splotchy mark over his heart.

“What the fuck…” he whispered to his reflection. He leaned in closer to the mirror to examine it. It was red and black and half of it seemed like his Spidey symbol. He rubbed at it and the texture was no different than the other skin on his chest. He poked it, snorting when it didn’t hurt. Well, it didn’t hurt more than a poke in the chest anyway. Shrugging it off as another weird thing in the story of his life, he hopped in the shower, making a mental note to ask Tony about it the next time the Avengers had a team meeting. Surely the self-proclaimed _genius_ would have some idea of what would cause a mark to suddenly appear. 

He rushed through his routine, thanking the universe when the new mark didn’t show through his white button down. The last thing he needed, as the newest adjunct professor of biochemistry, was to have what looked like a big red tattoo show through his shirt. He was already late to class more often than not and had yet to publish anything during the current semester. 

_Maybe I should have taken Tony up on his offer to work at Stark Industries_ his pessimistic internal dialogue inserted. _Tony doesn’t subscribe to the idea of publish or perish_. He snorted to himself. Tony had been great as a mentor and boss. 

When he was 16. 

A decade and a half later, Peter wanted to separate his regular life from his superhero life. Only his closest friends knew about his alter-ego; Miles and Gwen, of course, then one of the Peters, then the other. When one of the Peters found out _anything_ inevitably the other one would find out. Finally Peni found out and that was the extent of his non-powered friends. 

Peter gwaffed out a laugh for the millionth time at the fact that his group of close friends had three Peters in it. The _name de jour_ of the late ‘80s had apparently been Peter. To avoid confusion, they called the Peter that vaguely looked like a young Nicolas Cage “Noir” because he liked to talk like an old depression era detective movie. “I was homeschooled,” was his explanation. The other Peter got to be Proper Peter because he was rarely seen out of a suit and tie. He _wanted_ to be called “[Kid Gorgeous](https://youtu.be/eWrKf5ik1i4)” but the whole group refused on principle, even if he was unfairly attractive. Peter Parker was affectionately called Imagine Dragons. _Because he was radioactive_.

Peter sighed to himself. He needed better friends. He didn’t know where he would find friends at his age while being simultaneously single and untenured. Empire State University was a lot more cutthroat than Peter had expected. He had seen a woman sobbing outside the English department because a rival adjunct had changed the font of all of her professional paperwork to Comic Sans.

His phone beeped as he ran into Delmar’s for a cup of slightly burnt coffee and a pastry. 

“Happy birthday, Peter!” Mr. Delmar exclaimed. “On the house,” he continued. Then he winked. “How’s that foxy aunt of yours?”

Peter shook his head, fighting a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Delmar. May is fine. I’ll pass on your regards.” 

Mr. Delmar laughed, warm and musical. “You do that, college boy.”

Lifting his cup of coffee in thanks, Peter rushed out of the bodega to try and catch his train. He calculated the odds of actually being at the stop when the train he needed was loading passengers at about a trillion to one. “Why do I have dumb spider powers when I could have cool teleportation powers like Stephen,” he mumbled to himself. Sure Dr. Strange was kind of a douche, but his powers were pretty fucking cool. Somehow Peter had luck on his side and soon he was in a subway car that smelled like old, moldy socks, had one free seat that had a suspicious wet spot, and half of a pole to grab onto. _Fine, sticky spider hands are helpful in situations like this_ he admitted to himself. He let his hand stick to the free area of the hand hold, relaxed his knees for abrupt stops and starts, and proceeded to follow proper public transportation etiquette: headphones on, eye contact non-existent. 

Scrolling through his phone he snorted at his friends’ ideas of birthday greetings. Miles sent a picture of [Dan Reynolds](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dan_Reynolds_\(singer\)) with “Happy Birthday” in bright red over his face. Gwen, in what had to be a joint effort, sent a picture of the whole band with the same greeting over their faces, making Peter roll his eyes. Noir sent him “Happy day of your birth, fellow Peter,” while Proper Peter, apparently taking direction from Dwight Schrute, sent a picture of a piece of lined paper with a handwritten _birthday_ in black ink. He sighed. _Surely_ somebody _will want me as their friend. Maybe I can find a group and be the_ only _Peter for once_ he mused.

Peni, who was now Peter’s new best friend, sent him a gift card to Starbucks and several cake emojis. There was a paragraph from Tony that Peter knew he would have to read during one of his breaks, but that made Peter smile nonetheless. Steve sent him a drawing of the Spider-Man logo with a “Happy birthday, Sport,” under the picture. Predictably, Nat sent a picture of her glaring at the camera with “you tell people too much personal information” in a second text which made him laugh out loud. He kept his eyes averted to make sure he wouldn’t see if people were silently judging him. 

Finally his station was coming up. The train stopped and Peter pushed through the people getting on as he was exiting, managing to spill the last few drops of his coffee on his shirt. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself. His Spidey Sense started to go haywire as he heard a loud shout and saw a man in a dark hoodie fall over to his immediate left. He rushed over to the man who was bleeding from a wound in his abdomen. 

“Somebody call 911!” he shouted to the passers-by.

He saw a few people startle at his tone, but nobody slowed down. “Fuck,” he repeated under his breath. Grabbing his phone he hit the button for actual-emergency Janet.

“Peter, what do you need?” the AI asked.

“I’ve got an injured man at my current location. He needs an ambulance and can you have Tony pull the CCTV footage to see if we can figure out who hurt him? In fact, can you connect me to Tony?” he asked in a rush.

“Of course, Peter. I’m happy to assist.” Janet’s voice was soothing to Peter’s overstimulated brain. “Your blood pressure is a little high. Take a couple of deep breaths before I connect you to Tony.”

Peter did as she asked and when she determined he was calmer, he heard Tony slur, “Whazzzit, Peter?”

“Tony, I’m with an injured person—”

He was cut off by a loud moan. “My name is Wade,” the bleeding man said.

“Um, thanks. I’m with Wade, who is injured. Janet is calling emergency services but can you have Jarvis pull any footage that might help apprehend the attackers?”

Tony’s voice was suddenly clear. “Are you OK, Peter? Don’t you have class? Let me email the department head so they know you’re not going to be—” 

“Tony. I appreciate it, but I can take care of it myself. ESU doesn’t really need a call from _you_ to let them know I’m missing class.”

Tony was silent for a moment. “You’re gonna have Janet do it.”

Peter dropped his head and looked at the man on the ground. “Yeah, I’m gonna have Janet do it,” he admitted.

“Great!” Tony’s approval was clear in his voice. “I’ll get J on the footage. He says emergency services are two minutes away.”

Peter whispered _thanks_ and hung up. Calls made, Peter looked down at Wade, taking in his appearance. Most of his head was covered up by the hood part of his hoodie, but what he could see of the other man, that wasn’t covered in blood, was heavily scarred. He took a shaky breath wondering what had happened to cause such scarring. 

Wade was breathing more shallowly with each breath. Peter immediately listened for a pulse. His heart was beating, but it was slow and sluggish.

He shook the other man gently. “C’mon, dude. Help is almost here. Don’t make me miss teaching 200 freshmen _Intro to Bio-Chem_ because you died. That’s a douche move.”

Wade quit breathing. Peter’s Spidey Sense went ballistic, temporarily blinding and deafening him. He flinched when he felt someone touch his shoulder.

An EMT who looked like she had seen some _shit_ was talking. Peter shook his head to clear it.

"—sir, we need you to move. Please get out of the way.” Her voice was stern, but kind. Peter nodded, stood up, and moved away from Wade. “Thank you. Can you tell me what happened on the way to the hospital?”

As she was talking, two other EMTs were loading Wade onto a stretcher. As soon as he was secured, the taller of the two started chest compressions. 

“Sir?” the EMT asked.

“Uh, I don’t actually know him. He got attacked as I was getting off the train. He told me his name was Wade?” Peter said in an unsteady voice, watching Wade. After a few seconds, something happened and they put an oxygen mask on Wade and started to move him.

“If you don't know him then it looks like we can take it from here. Thanks for requesting assistance.” 

Peter nodded dumbly at the woman as she joined her fellow EMTs, taking Wade away to get medical care.

“You did the right thing,” Janet’s voice filtered in from his phone. “You probably saved his life, Peter.”

“Can you—”

“It’s already done. All of your classes have been canceled for the day and your department head has been informed of your absence. He was very understanding.” Peter stood still, looking down at the drying puddle of blood. “Peter…” Janet’s voice was tentative. “Peter, go home.”

He blinked, took a deep breath, and turned to do as Janet bid.

——

Peter worried about Wade all day. He texted his friends back, thanking them for their birthday greetings. Well, acknowledging that he had received them anyway. He _did_ thank Peni and Steve. He finally had time to read Tony’s missive. It was like the man himself; sarcastically funny and unexpectedly kind. He sent back a quick reply, only to get an incoming call from Tony. 

“Hey, Pete. That guy you saved in your civies is Wade Wilson. Former Canadian military, sorta-kinda-maybe slightly shady guy? Jarvis says he has no discernable means of income and he seems to live in an abandoned opium den with a blind, former assassin.”

Peter inhaled sharply, and it must have been louder than he thought because Tony stopped talking.

“It’s not all bad, Peter. There might not be a paper trail for jobs, but he apparently volunteers at a soup kitchen and makes random, large donations to The Trevor Project as well as the Transgender Law Center. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s alive and set to be released in a couple of days. Apparently he had some sort of—”

“Are you _supposed_ to know this?” Peter interrupted with a smile. 

Tony was quiet. “...uh…”

Peter laughed, truly happy for the first time since he saw Wade bleeding on the floor of the subway station. “Honestly, I’m just happy he’s going to be OK. I heard his heart stop and my Spidey Sense went crazy. I’ve never had that happen before. Not even when Uncle Ben...” he trailed off.

Tony was quiet again. Peter heard him mumble something before he said, “Yeah, that’s weird. Let me know if it keeps spazzing out. Now that you’re an adult—” Peter squawked at him and started waving the hand that wasn’t holding the phone— “You know I’m right, Peter. Don’t freak out. But yeah, 30 is a big one. Wanna make sure nothing is going wrong for you. A random blip is one thing, but if it keeps freaking out, I’ll want to run some tests." Peter nodded. “Did you nod?” Tony asked.

Peter laughed again. “You know me so well, Tony. Thanks. Really. Thanks for everything.”

Tony’s voice was quiet and fond. “No problem, Pete. Anything you need.” 

The next day, the trip to ESU was uneventful. Peter looked for the spot where Wade had been the day before. It looked a little dark but not at all like a man had died there. He shook it off as just another weird New York thing. But it was Friday and Miles and Proper Peter had promised him a night of shots and debauchery, so he didn't let his mind linger for long.

Which...Peter was honest with himself; they were going to do a couple of shots in Gwen’s apartment, put on Mortal Kombat, and pass out on her couch. She and her girlfriend MJ had the biggest apartment, as well as a huge sectional couch and a spare room, which Peni always claimed. Peter felt, as the birthday boy, he should get the guest room, but MJ always insisted the three Peters and Miles stay on the couch. Something about _not making the room smell like feet and farts, it’s for_ company _Peter_. Gwen didn’t care either way, but she was invested in keeping MJ happy, so Peni got the room. 

On Fridays, Peter had his upper level classes so he really enjoyed those students. He got through teaching and started walking uptown to Gwen and MJ’s building. He had walked a couple of blocks when his Spidey Sense started to blare again. He felt shaky, all of his arm hair standing up straight, again he was temporarily blinded and deafened. He stumbled and fell to his knees. 

“Peter!” Tony’s voice was tinny from Peter’s phone. “Pete! Can you hear me?”

Peter shook his head, all of his senses restored. “Hey, yeah, sorry. How did you—”

“Janet called me when your heart rate went wild. This doesn’t seem normal, Peter. Can you come by—”

Peter grimaced as he stood up, brushing off his knees and not relishing the ache that would occur the next morning. He ducked into an alley so he could have some semblance of privacy. 

“Yeah, I don’t know, Tony,” Peter said, his voice rough from his episode. “It was just like when Wade—”

“OK, Peter. You need to come in sooner rather than later. This isn’t normal. I know your abilities are a little strange, but that’s definitely not what’s supposed to happen. Or at least it’s not what has happened in the past. I feel like you would have mentioned it. Well, or Janet would have totally ratted you out.” Peter could hear the concern in Tony’s voice.

“Yeah, Tony. Sure. But not tonight. I’ve got plans with my friends tonight. Can I come to the Tower tomorrow?” Peter was too dignified to beg.

“ _Pleaseeeeeee, Tony_?” he begged.

Tony laughed at him. “Whatever. I know the spider gang will take care of you, Imagine Dragons.”

Peter groaned. “Oh my god, I can’t believe they _told_ you that. I need different friends.”

“Sure, Pete. But if you’re not on your way by, say two, I’m going to have Jarvis bug Janet until you start moving.” Tony’s glee was obvious. 

“Tony. I’ll be there. But I have plans, man. Let me go be a young person. I’m rapidly getting older. I need to sow my wild oats before it’s too late.”

Tony snorted. “I feel like I should tell you you’re getting too old to be irresponsible but that would make me a big hypocrite. So go have fun with everybody, and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” Then he hung up leaving Peter staring, bemusedly, at his phone.

The rest of the trip to Gwen’s place was uneventful. He walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. It creaked open.

“SURPRISE!” his friends shouted in unison.

“Guys, you know _I_ planned this, right?” Peter rolled his eyes as he walked in the door. Gwen and MJ's apartment was the exact mix of messy and organized that he had come to associate with the women’s personalities. Gwen had sweaters thrown all over the furniture, a single shoe was under the couch, while its mate wasn’t visible. Notebooks, from whatever research project she was working on, were wedged in-between couch cushions and piled up in the corner. In contrast, MJ’s sketchbooks were neatly stacked on her desk with her tablet and a cup full of various pens. Peter tore his gaze away from the controlled chaos of the room and looked back at his friends.

“It’s fun to shout in unison,” Noir explained.

“Plus I got a great picture of the dumb look on your face,” MJ drawled, earning a whispered _be nice_ and an elbow from Gwen. “This _is_ me being nice, hon. Peter is the dumbest smart guy I’ve ever met. How he manages to get dressed _and_ hold down a job is a mystery to me.”

Peter and Gwen shared a look. Gwen’s was more along the lines of _if you don’t let me tell her you’re Spider-Man instead of a moron, I will_ stab _you._ Peter just gave her his best puppy dog eyes.

Proper Peter saw the look between them. “Hey, leave Dragons alone. It’s not his fault he’s kind of a dumpster fire person. He’s learned so many life lessons. For instance, he taught me that ‘you can do good work simply staying up all night and eating nothing but junk food, but probably not in the long term’.”

Peni laughed and grabbed Peter’s arm. He flipped off Proper Peter and his only _true_ friend led him to the kitchen where a large cake sat on the counter.

“Peni, you're the best of us all. Never change,” he whispered. “You’re worth seven of each of those jackasses.”

She nudged him in the side. “We love you, Peter Parker. Like a week after we all found out about your alter ego, we had an almost simultaneous freak out that we hung out with—” she suddenly dropped her voice to a whisper— “Spider-Man. Proper Peter _shrieked_ at one point.”

Peter giggled causing Peni to giggle. He leaned down to hug her. “Not only are you the nicest of our friends, I appreciate you being shorter than me. I appreciate that more than you know.” 

Peni giggled again. “Let’s cut your cake so we can eat and—”

“DO SHOTS!” Gwen shouted from behind them. 

Peter spun around. “How long have you been there?!?” he shrieked. _In a manly voice_ he assured himself. 

“Just long enough to hear you crying about being the shorty of the group.” She leaned in and started to tickle him.

“Ge—groff! Gwen! Damn you and your long legs!” Peter shouted.

“Don’t beat up my girlfriend, shorty!” MJ exclaimed from the other room. “And bring some fucking CAKE!” At her shout of “cake” a chorus of “give us cake” started.

Peni and Gwen grinned and looked at Peter. “The mob beckons,” Peni said.

Peter gave in, cutting the cake into large slices and followed the women into the living room.

A large slice of cake and several shots later, Peter was nestled between Proper Peter and Noir. “This is cozy,” her murmured. Gwen and MJ were squished together on an oversized arm chair while Miles, the smartest of them all, had his own chair. As Liu and Tsung fought onscreen, Peter snuggled closer to his friends. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered. Or shouted. He was pretty tipsy. Volume control was _difficult_.

“My Spi—”

“Peter!” Miles admonished him.

“Is this where I’m supposed to pretend I _don’t_ know I-D is our resident Spider-themed hero?” MJ said with a smirk. They all turned and gaped. MJ just winked at them. “Y’all know Dr. Smarty McTallpants isn’t with me just because of my prowess in bed, right?”

Peter continued to gape at her. He heard Gwen mutter “well that saves me some trouble” and snort. MJ was _visibly_ losing control of her giggling.

He wriggled around to sit up, keeping his legs in Noir’s lap and leaning against Proper Peter’s shoulder. “So I met this guy and my Spidey Sense went crazy.”

“Was he threatening you?” Peter could hear the concern in Peni’s voice. 

“No! Nothing like that!” Peter exclaimed. “Something happened, and he got hurt. I heard his heartbeat stop and suddenly I couldn’t hear or see and my heart rate went through the roof.”

“Oh my god, Peter, is everything OK?” Proper Peter asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, Tony said he made a full recovery and that he should be out of the hospital in a few days. I don’t know more than that; apparently Wade’s going to be fine. But I’m also supposed to go to the Tower tomorrow for testing.” Peter groaned. “He’s going to treat me like a lab rat again.”

“When... oh. When you first got your superheroing powers, I’m assuming.” He turned and nodded at MJ. Peter had apparently underestimated her deductive skills. 

“So, yeah. Now I have to go and be poked and prodded, probably while being hungover." Peter would be the first to admit he was whining.

"If only the raid on Area 51 had been successful," Gwen said. "You would have somebody who understood the struggle."

MJ and Proper Peter snorted. Noir just looked confused while Peni and Miles had sympathetic looks on their faces. Somehow, Gwen managed to make her sympathy seem sarcastic.

"I hate you all,” Peter grumbled. He got up to pee and MJ followed him.

“For what it’s worth,” MJ said, ”it’s actually pretty cool that you’re Spider-Man. I mean, you’re a huge dork, but you really do care about people. I hope Tony figures out what’s going on with you.” She smirked. “But I do still think you’re a dumbass. Also, now that I _officially_ know you're Spidey, I can do this.” Her voice was smug as she pushed him. Then her face fell as Peter crashed to the ground.

“Sticky feet!” she exclaimed.

He gave her a wry grin and wiggled his feet. “Sneakers, dude. My feet don't stick through shoes.” He jumped up. “Can I please go pee now?”

MJ rolled her eyes. “What, like you need permission?”

He let out a soft, “Oh my god,” as he finally walked into the bathroom.

——

“Well, Peter it looks like everything is fine,” Jarvis said over the speaker in Tony’s lab. “Your vital signs haven’t changed drastically since we first started testing you when you were 16. You’re a bit dehydrated but that’s probably—” 

“Probably only because you drank so much shitty whiskey I can _smell_ it on you,” Tony interrupted the AI. “ _Dude_. You’re 30. Get something that doesn’t cost $6 and smell like ass.”

“It was $12,” Peter mumbled as he rested his head in his hands. He was finally sitting, in not the most comfortable chair, but it was better than running on the treadmill while Jarvis and Tony monitored him like a science experiment. He shifted and the red material squeaked. He briefly looked up at Tony. “You know I don’t have a lot of disposable income, Tony.”

“Pete, you know—”

“No.” Peter’s voice brooked no argument. “Absolutely not. It’s enough that—”

“That I pay for that shithole? Peter! I’m fucking _loaded_.” Tony started to flush. “If you would only be a little more—”

Peter stood up, putting his back to Tony. “If we’re done here, I’ll be on my way,” he said in a cold voice. He _hated_ that he relied on Tony for his rent. He wasn’t going to take any more charity, no matter how rich the other man was. The _only_ reason he took anything was because he knew he couldn’t feasibly work full-time and be Spider-Man. Plus, while most people wouldn’t care too much about his odd hours, New York was the city that never slept and his random injuries might cause a roommate some concern. 

“Peter!” Tony shouted, more sad than angry. “I’m sorry. I just…” He took a deep breath while Peter turned around to face him again. “I just want to help,” he said in a small voice.

Peter felt tears pricking his eyes. The only thing worse than taking charity from Tony was fighting with him. He stared at the toes of his shoes and let out a little sniffle. “I know, Tony. We’ve been through this before. You said you wouldn’t push.”

Tony’s feet suddenly appeared in Peter’s line of sight. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll work on it more, I promise.” They stood in silence for a terse moment. “Just, Peter. Look at me.” Peter raised his head, still not meeting Tony’s eyes. “Please,” Tony continued, still in a small voice. “Please let me know if you need anything. If I can trust you to let me know when you’re in a bad spot, you can trust me to keep my overbearing tendencies to myself. At least, I’ll _work_ really hard on it. ‘K?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, we’ll both work on stuff. Can I?” He gestured towards the door.

Tony made a weird face. “Yeah, sure. Lunch though? We kinda ran tests through actual food time.”

Knowing it would mean a lot to Tony, and not cost his pride, Peter nodded. He repeated back, “Yeah, sure,” with a small smile.

Tony immediately brightened. “Great! I’ll order something for everyone! Cap and his boyfriend are here, and I think Nat’s in the country? Which means she’s lurking somewhere. The bird bros are doing their bird thing on the roof.” He looked around his workshop. “Jarvis, can you find out who wants lunch and order some curry?”

“Of course,” the AI said in his calm voice. “Though I think Mr. Barton would prefer Thai.”

Tony waved his hands. “Whatever. I just want something with rice and spicy sauces. I trust your judgement, J.”

Peter smiled at the thought of his mentor and part-time benefactor putting his trust in the artificial intelligence he had created decades ago. “Jarvis and Janet are really something, Tony,” he said, still smiling. 

“Yeah, somebody smart must have designed them,” Tony responded with a shit-eating grin.

Peter rolled his eyes and walked towards the elevator. “So you think Nat is in town? I haven’t seen her in a month.”

Tony nodded as the doors to the elevator opened. “Yeah, she’s blonde now, I guess. I dunno. But you know better than to say anything about it because who knows if it’s her _actual_ hair or a wig.”

Peter’s mood lifted as he and Tony ascended to the main common area to meet up with the rest of the Avengers.

——

Between the argument and lunch, Peter completely forgot to ask Tony or Jarvis about the weird new body art he was sporting. He had returned to his studio apartment and was stretched out on his bed in his boxers. He rolled onto his back and stared at the water spots on his ceiling.

“Hey, Janet,” he asked softly. The two concessions to his living arrangements, well the two _additional_ concessions, were having Janet hardwired into the apartment, and Tony insisting on getting Peter a top-of-the-line mattress. _You can’t save grannies with a bad back, Peter,_ Tony had said. Peter was... well, he was more than amenable to the luxurious bed, and Janet’s loyalty was to Peter not Tony, so he felt comfortable giving in.

“How can I help,” Janet answered at a similar volume.

“What’s going on with me?” 

She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know, Peter. Tony and Jarvis have done as much research as possible about your powers, but this is unlike anything they’ve observed.”

Peter thought and sighed. “What about this new thing on my chest? I mean, I know the one half looks like my mask, but the other side, I’ve never seen anything like it.” He looked down at his chest. The shape seemed almost like an anatomically correct heart. _His_ side had his eye hole with a round black circle around the white. However the inside of the opposite side was black with a white eye hole that looked angry. There was also a lot of black spatter marks on that side. Peter had never seen a symbol like it. The two halves were so different, yet somehow, they complimented each other. 

Peter realized that either Janet knew he was zoning out or he had completely missed what she said. “Sorry, did I miss it?”

She laughed. “No, I was letting you muse.” There was a weighted pause. “I did look into that when it showed up yesterday. I think, Peter, that it’s a soul mark.”

Peter scoffed. “Janet, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I want facts, not fairytales.”

She laughed again. “Peter, I _have_ done my research. The last recorded pair of soulmates was in 1987. I had to dig because that wasn’t realized until their deaths, but Molly and Arthur Jones were found in their house in Wales with matching soul marks. Their hearts stopped within minutes of each other. During the autopsy, they were found to have matching marks in the center of their chests.”

“How do we know it wasn’t just a tattoo—” Peter started.

“The testing done on the marks showed that the color pigment wasn’t anything naturally occurring, nor was it man made. I’ve run a brief scan on your mark, according to the records I could find, it’s the same substance as the Jones’ mark. After their deaths, their children were interviewed and they said they had known about the bond their parents shared.”

“How was there not a media circus after they died?” Peter asked in shock. The idea of _soulmates,_ of _soul marks,_ was almost too fantastical to believe. He snorted. _As fantastical as being bitten by a radioactive spider and getting super powers,_ he admitted to himself. He rested his arm over his eyes to try and block out the world.

“Somebody hid the files, Peter. I only found them because SHIELD had a copy. I don’t even think Tony and Jarvis know about the couple and their bond. If I hadn’t been looking specifically for spontaneous marks, I would never have found the file.”

Peter groaned. “It’s Wade, isn’t it?” 

“I’m not sure—”

“The guy I saved? When he died, my Spidey Sense went off. It _has_ to be because he’s my soulmate. Why do I have to have a mystical bond with a guy that got attacked right in front of me?”

“That would make the most sense, Peter,” Janet said, kindly. “Do you want me to let Tony and Jarvis know?”

Peter rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. “Nowefhouwenfojw,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I didn’t understand you.”

Peter rolled back onto his back and glared at the ceiling. “Not right now, thanks, Janet. I wanna think about everything before I share. It’s kind of a lot to take in, ya know? I’m still not totally convinced what’s on my chest is an actual soul mark. But before I start feeding Tony’s need to know _everything_ about a single subject, I think I want to either find Wade and get to know him or figure out if we’ll both be happier apart.”

“I don’t think you can make that decision on your own, Peter. I think Wade gets a voice in the matter.”

Peter made an angry grunt. “For all I know, he doesn’t even know I exist beyond the guy who called 911 for him. And he may not even remember that! Don’t give me a lesson in morality, Janet.”

“Peter, you know I’m right. I don’t want to argue with you but you know, deep down, I’m right.” Janet was sarcastic for an AI.

“Whatever,” he sighed. “It’s late. I have to work in the morning. I need to sleep before I really start to worry about a possible soulmate.”

“Goodnight, Peter,” Janet said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DIDJA SEE THE ART?!!? DIDJA?!?!
> 
>  _dies_ All the credit goes to DroptheBeet because holy shit, so much talent in one person! Just, I can't with how great!


	2. Everything is cool when you're part of a team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade's side of the story

That _fucking_ guy. That _motherfucking_ guy. Wade was just minding his own business, like a person does, stealing from the rich, redistributing it to the poor. A modern day man in tights but without an [English](https://youtu.be/rrFmuiF2ENY) accent. And if Wade himself saw a little bit of that scratch stay in his own pocket, well, nobody needed to know. 

‘Cause nobody wanted to hire a slightly scary, hella scarred, former Canadian to take care of their kids, or flip burgers, or whatever regular people did. People who also probably didn’t wake up with a scribbly mark on their chest. A red and black scribbly mark that hadn’t been over his heart the night before. It looked kinda like a heart. But not like a heart that a person would draw around a pair of initials or when they wrote Mrs. Wade Wilson-Romanoff on the back of their notebook. And, yes, maybe Wade had a crush on the Black Widow. But she was fucking hot and she was a former mercanary turned Avenger and maybe somedays Wade wished he _was_ her. But _anyway,_ his conscious thought was completely running away from him.

So he had this thing that looked like an anatomically correct heart over his, well Wade guessed it was where his _actual_ heart was. And it had like black eyes? It was weird and why it showed up the day he got stabbed was a mystery. He didn’t know what he thought about it with his scarring; he looked pretty funky already. Not that Wade was actively looking for someone to see him naked at the moment. He had pretty much given up on most human interactions after he got back from _the war_. Honestly, Wade was just happy to have a roommate and an apartment. No job was just part of the whole human dumpster fire aura he was cultivating.

HOWEVER all that paled in comparison to the douchebag who fucking clocked Wade and stabbed him. And the biggest rub of it all was that Wade had no idea who the dickbag was. He had no idea about motive, if it was somebody who he had stolen from, if it was somebody who he _wouldn’t_ steal for, if it was just a random stranger. And on top of that, the stranger had stabbed Wade in his favorite kidney. Everybody knew the right kidney was the better of the pair. And with as much alcohol as Wade had consumed in his youth, he needed his good kidney. 

At least some really cute guy saved him.

He had some sort of personal assistant Wade could hear from his phone, helping him. And he remembered how frantic the guy’s brown eyes looked as Wade was bleeding out on the floor of the subway station. His inner monologue reminded him that his mother had called this. 

_You’ll get up to no good, Wade Winston Wilson, and end up bleeding out on the streets._ Or something like that. But Peter, Wade heard his assistant call the dreamy guy Peter, was saving Wade. Then suddenly Wade saw white and heard angels singing. They had rosy cheeks and little harps. 

Abruptly he crashed back to Earth. He took a broken breath, somebody was doing chest compressions. [_Oh, oh, oh, oh, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive_](https://youtu.be/ssIY8NYwvh4) his brain, that was forever going off on a tangent, supplied. He coughed and felt cool, delicious oxygen fill his lungs. Letting out a Homer Simpson worthy [gurgle](https://youtu.be/msQPHxTUgzI), he let darkness take him again.

—

His alarm was going off. Fucking thing, he wasn’t in the Army anymore; he had done his time, won a couple of awards for [marksmanship and sand racing](https://youtu.be/0NUoNnX045A) and got out, all without losing a hand. He grunted and rolled over, trying to stop the damned beeping.

“Sir,” a low voice called out. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop moving.”

Wade cracked an eye open. “Fffffffsssssss…” he mumbled. Which, roughly translated, meant “for fucks sake” but apparently Wade didn’t possess the fine motor control to move his mouth. Or he was parched, or something. Deciding that moving was too difficult, he did as the voice asked and laid still in his bed. His _hospital_ bed. 

Mentally flipping off the giant bag of dicks who had landed Wade in the hospital, _again_ , he let out some of his anger in a grunt. Then he opened his eyes and tried to smile at the health-care professional.

The [man](https://www.google.com/search?q=anthony+mackie&client=ms-android-verizon&prmd=niv&sxsrf=ACYBGNTA1GOCUtqU2wBSuyzdkbid5f2USQ:1571026817298&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjQnIL78prlAhUygK0KHd1CA9QQ_AUIGSgC&biw=360&bih=640#imgrc=KsnszpEkuZbvtM) looking down at him had warm brown skin and dark mahogany eyes. He was wearing light blue scrubs and when he and Wade finally made eye contact, he smiled. Wade liked the little gap in his front teeth.

“Sir, I’m your nurse, Anthony. You were intubated after you were brought in which means—”

Wade waved his hand and shook his head. He knew what being intubated meant, he was addicted to ER in his teens. “‘S all good,” he croaked out. Or tried to. Mostly, it was a rasp with some spittle.

“Sir,” the nurse started again. “Maybe you should drink a little water. I’m sure you’re parched and sore.” When Wade nodded, Anthony left to get water.

 _Missed opportunity for unnecessary use of “lubricate”_ his ever-so-helpful brain added. He nodded, his brain wasn’t _wrong_.

A few moments later, Anthony walked in with a plastic cup. Wade made grabby hands and drank everything as fast as he could. He saw Anthony tense. “Dude, don’t drink too fast, you’ll barf!”

“Are nurses supposed to say barf?” Wade asked in a rough voice.

Anthony barked out a laugh. “Yeah, you got me there. Be careful though. You’re gonna be a little hoarse—”

“Like [Li'l Sebastian](https://youtu.be/xUvkyBH--D0)," Wade said in wonder. 

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Anthony replied, “Not even remotely like that.”

Wade just grinned and winked. His nurse was _cute_.

“Anyway, we need to get back on track. Now that I can understand you, I need to know a little bit about you. Strangely—” he gave Wade a weird look— "you don’t have any identification on you. The guy who called emergency services said your name was Wade?”

Wade shook his head. _Nope, no real names._ He cleared his throat. “Thom Cruz,” he got out.

Anthony stared at him. “Like the actor,” he said in a dry voice.

“Yeah!” Wade nodded vigorously. “With the [middle front tooth](https://m.imgur.com/gallery/t8OwI)!”

“What…” He took a deep breath. “OK, Tom—”

“No!” Wade interrupted. “T-H-O-M C-R-U-Z,” he explained. “I could hear you spelling it wrong.” 

He could see Anthony bite his lip, trying not to smile. “OK, _Thom_ ,” he got out. “So obviously you’re in the hospital. You were brought in with a head wound and pretty severe internal bleeding. Please save the Brooklyn 99 joke. I _know_ blood is supposed to be on the inside, but we think your heart briefly stopped beating and you definitely stopped breathing. Honestly, no matter what _Grey’s Anatomy_ says, outcomes like yours are far from the norm. You’ve got some heavy bruising from the CPR.”

Wade peeked under his hospital gown. He saw a big mottled bruise over the red squiggly circle. “I don’t feel terrible,” he admitted.

Anthony’s face dropped. He took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re on several good pain meds. The doctors had to operate. I’m sorry, but do you remember much about your attack?”

Wade nodded. _Fucking stabbing prick,_ he thought.

“Thom, I’m sorry but unfortunately they had to take your kidney to save your life.”

“Rightie or leftie?” Wade asked in a small voice.

Anthony looked at him strangely. “Your right kidney, Mr. Cruz.”

“[NOOOOooooooooooo](https://youtu.be/WWaLxFIVX1s)!” he wailed. 

——

After about a week, Wade settled into his new routine. He woke up, got blood drawn ( _fucking hospital vampires,_ he complained without fail, _always out for my blood_ ) and they checked his vital signs. But after that unpleasantness, he was treated to hospital breakfast. Which… wasn’t as bad as it sounded. He was able to get really cheesy eggs and toast almost every morning, and even Blind Al couldn’t fuck up eggs _too_ much. Well, she had set them on fire so many times that Wade had stopped counting. But the times she focused on the smell, they had turned out great. 

So. Breakfast, and light flirting with the cute nurse Anthony. He was always Wade’s weekday nurse. His sponge bath time always provided new and exciting ways of figuring out how to hide his body from the beautiful man. Especially the few times _little Wade_ got interested in the proceedings. _What I wouldn't give for some sort of comic book superhero regenerating healing shit,_ he had grumbled to himself on more than one occasion. _Coulda just grown rightie back like a couple of days and been out of this place_. 

But alas, he was just a mere mortal with extraordinarily bad fucking luck. Like the IED that went off and caused all of his melted mannequin skin look and the loss of one eyebrow. And now! He lost his FAVORITE KIDNEY!!!

Wade stopped his thoughts with a sharp _no!_ and started in on the breathing exercises his therapist had recommended. The hospital staff had been a little _concerned_ with some of Wade’s... excentricities, and his less than being totally happy with being alive with only one kidney. Look, Wade knew he would have a normal life, he just couldn’t binge drink like he used to. But honestly, when he had hit 35 he pretty much stopped that anyway. And he knew it was probably a dumb thing to be upset about, but with all the loss Wade had experienced in his relatively short life, losing an internal organ was kind of a big bummer. 

After he stopped counting to ten in his head and taking long, deep breaths, he felt a little bit better. Calmer, more centered or whatever. But he didn’t want to find his attacker and rip dude's kidney out and shove it into his own body so stabby dickbag could learn what it felt like to lose a kidney. Well. He didn’t feel like that as strongly.

Once he was a little calmer, he opened his eyes. He saw Anthony staring at him with a soft smile on his face. “Upset about…” he trailed off. Anthony was a prince among men; he understood Wade’s Trauma. 

Capital-T-Trauma.

Wade nodded and smiled back. “Is it time for PT?” he asked quietly. 

Anthony nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got more kitten pics when you’re done.”

That was the other thing about Anthony. He knew the right things to use to motivate Wade. Contraband milkshakes and pictures of baby animals, and Wade would put up with almost anything. Taking one last deep breath, Wade half rolled out of bed and into the waiting wheelchair.

“This chair is so cold on my ass,” he grumbled. “If the whole point of me doing physical therapy is to get me ready to rejoin society, can’t I fucking walk?!?”

“I don’t make the rules, guy. I just wheel your whiny ass to where they tell me.” Wade imagined him rolling his eyes. Anthony was a sarcastic little shit and Wade was half in love.

Finally, they reached the room and Wade was put through half an hour of torture. A squeaky, nervous guy wheeled him back to his room, and Wade ordered lunch. Grilled cheese and tomato soup today. He was halfway through eating when it was time for another blood draw and a vitals check. Then it was an hour of flipping through the channels on the weird hospital TV. 

After one last visit with Anthony, the shifts changed and Wade didn’t pay attention to the new nurses. He assumed they were fine, but they didn’t make as much of an impact. He had a brief moment of excitement when the doctor dropped in to order another scan. When Wade asked her when she thought he would get out, she was non-committal, but Wade sensed it would be soon. He had like a [_fifth sense_ almost like he had _ESPN_ or something](https://youtu.be/I8caeFYzPxk). Or _something._

Sure enough, Anthony came back the next morning with a big smile on his face. "Good news, Thom! They're gonna release you into the wild soon. There's just— well we have to make sure somebody can care for you over the next couple of months. You're not really gonna be back to full strength for a while. Plus, you can't drive. Is there anybody we can call for you?"

Wade nodded. "Yeah, my roommate can come get me. She may be blind, but she's also somehow amazing at surviving. Much better than me anyway. She's like 200, and I don't think she's ever died. Whereas I'm 36, and I just died. Died _[...in your arms tonight](https://youtu.be/6dOwHzCHfgA),_" he sang. 

"Man, I'm gonna miss you," Anthony admitted. "Literally half of everything that comes out of your mouth is complete nonsense, but you're entertaining as fuck."

Wade gasped, making his mouth into an "O" And clutching his cheeks with his hands. "[Anthony Hopkins](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Hopkins)!" he exclaimed. "You said—" Wade dropped his voice to a whisper— "the f-bomb."

"Dude, not my name. Also, how many times have you said fuck in front of me?"

Wade thought for a moment. "[Anthony Anderson](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Anderson)!" he half shouted waggling his finger.

Anthony shook his head. "Nope," he said, popping the P.

"[Marc Anthony](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marc_Anthony)? _[Goose](https://g.co/kgs/XfdB96)?_ Anthony Danza? You know, _[hold me close young Tony Danza](https://youtu.be/xvSZzRJWMn4)_ ," Wade sang. 

"No, none of those people are me. In fact, only one dude is the same general color as me!"

Wade smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "I got it. Anthony Mackie. You're undercover for a role. I know you're that actor guy. You're as dreamy as he is, anyway." 

Anthony was unable to hide his pleased grin. "You've found me out, Thom. I'm the rich and famous actor, slumming it in a hospital in New York, giving sponge baths and taking out catheters."

Wade flexed. He might look like Ryan Reynolds if he had covered himself in hot glue, but dammit, his guns were [toit](https://images.app.goo.gl/1YxGNth1tUVHCdwP6). He preened as Anthony checked out his muscles. "Anthony, my love, you may be my hospital husband, but my heart belongs to another. The man who saved me: Peter-no-last-name. But don't despair, there will surely be someone out there for you."

Anthony smirked and pulled at something under his scrub top. It was a necklace with a ring on it. “I already found my Prince Charming,” he said with a soft smile. “You go find yours.”

——

Al took a cab to pick Wade up, no fancy schmancy Ubers for Wade. No, he was salt-of-the earth, the common man, the—

“Are you gonna get out of the fucking taxi or are you just going to make it your new home?” Al asked as Wade mused. 

He looked up in surprise. “Hey, we’re home.”

Al walked off, muttering to herself. “How is it that _I’m_ the blind one. Dumbass man can’t see the goddamn forest for the trees. Fucking moron.” She slammed the door as she left, leaving Wade to pay the fare.

“That’s gonna be $27.90,” the driver said in a bored voice.

“Sure,” Wade said as he handed him Al’s credit card.

Done with dealing with strangers, Wade gave the man his best _hurry this the fuck up before I give you the[Forrest Whittaker eye](https://youtu.be/RwGXlVNE9pc)._ The cabbie was either done with his business or Wade had really gotten to him with his stare because he handed the card back, said, “Thanks,” and drove away.

Wade made his way towards his house, avoiding all the booby traps he knew about and some that were either just piles of junk or new booby traps Al had set up while he was convalescing. “Did you go crazier while I was gone or did your natural not-being-able-to-see just come out more?”

There was no answer from the house. 

He walked in the front door and looked around the living room. “AL!” Wade shouted.

“Fuck, I’m blind, not Deaf, Wade,” Al said from his right. 

He squeaked. “I’m gonna put a fucking bell around your neck, I swear to Thor’s daddy, I will.”

“Oh yeah?” Al asked with a smirk on her face. _Her wrinkles look more deliberate and less haphazard like that,_ Wade’s inner monologue chimed in. “You and what army?” she continued. “And don’t say the Candian army, we all know that’s a joke.”

Wade flipped her off. “Whatever you say you blind old bat.”

“Again, Wade, I can _hear_ you—”

“Yeah, you were supposed to fucking hear it. Now, I’m down an internal organ and I’m not supposed to do a lot of stuff. I _am_ supposed to get some bling that says I’ve only got the one kidney, but that'll have to wait until I check the bank account. In the meantime, I’m going to retire to my boudoir and rest because verbally sparring with you has left me a little tired.”

A _brief_ , so very brief it could be classified as almost non-existent, look of concern crossed Al’s face. “I’ll make eggs,” she said gruffly as she waved Wade off into the general area of the bedrooms. 

After his totally justified nap, Wade woke up to the fire alarm. He snickered. “She forgot to smell the eggs,” he murmured as he rolled over and eased himself out of bed.

“Woman!” he bellowed. “They made better eggs in the hospital!”

Al was on the multicolored plaid couch in the living room with a completely _done_ look on her face. “If you want eggs, make them yourself,” she said in a short manner. 

Wade winked at her. “I just winked at you,” he explained. “I really missed home. I can make some eggs as soon as you turn off the damned alarm.”

She nodded and reached under the couch for her shotgun. “NO!” Wade yelled. “We have upstairs neighbors now!”

Al snorted. “Fine, do it the hard way, Mr. Hero.” 

Wade reached up and punched the alarm. It was still going. _Maybe Al was right with the shotgun_. “No!” he verbally chastised his inner voice. “Neighbors.” He nodded to himself and punched the alarm again. It started squeaking instead of the high pitched noise. He lost all of his patience and yanked it out of the ceiling, stomping on it after he threw it on the floor. 

Al gave him a dark look. “Woulda been easier if you just let me shoot it,” she mumbled. 

“Whatever, woman. Let me make food. I’m wasting away,” Wade countered.

“Ha! Not likely. You don’t look like you’ve ever missed a meal.”

“OK, two things, Al. _One,_ that’s fat shaming and that’s 100% not acceptable. People are people no matter how their bodies are composed. And _B,_ how the fuck do you even know what I look like?!? You haven’t felt me up since I lost rightie, and I dropped like three pounds!”

Al just started muttering under her breath and got up off the couch. “I’ll be in my room. Let me know when there’s food,” she said as she walked down the hall. 

Wade rolled his eyes and started looking for a clean pan. Finding one, he grabbed the carton of eggs that was on the countertop and started heating up the pan. He lost himself in the familiar motions of cooking and let his thoughts wander back to the hospital and Anthony and how he got to the hospital and _Peter_.

Before his eggs were completely burnt, but after they were a little brown around the edges, he brought his attention back to cooking and Al. “Hey you old bat!” he shouted. “Eggs are done!”

She wandered out as Wade plated the food. “I wasn’t trying to _fat_ shame you,” she said with a scowl. 

Wade waved her off. “Whatever. There’s toast too.”

They got comfortable on the couch and ate while Golden Girls played quietly in the background.

——

After a week of going to PT and visits to the hospital to have more blood drawn, Wade was given a clean bill of health with the warning that he was still recovering from major surgery so he had to take things easy. 

He called his _guy_ (who was actually non-binary but prefered she/her pronouns; Wade was down with the times, happy to do whatever people told him to do about sexuality and gender) to let her know he was out of commission for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah, sorry, dude,” he told Kris. “The doctor said no heavy lifting for six weeks.”

“That sucks,” Kris answered. “You know you’re always welcome to come help out at the store.”

Wade shuddered. “I don’t think people are going to want to buy from charity while looking at my mug.”

“Wade,” Kris’ voice was serious. “You’re a decorated veteran. You’re one of Habitat’s top volunteers, both with your time and your money. You do so much good for the community and will never let any of us give you credit. If somebody is turned off by your scarring, we don’t want their money because they’re probably stuck up bitches.”

Wade snickered, the action only _slightly_ pulling at his abdomen. “Whatever, friend. You know how to butter me up. I’ll see how I feel next week and maybe I can pull a shift or two.”

“Thanks, Wade.” Wade could hear the sincerity in her voice. “I wish more people were like you. You’re really a bro to anybody who needs it.”

“Sthap,” Wade groaned. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Kris laughed. “Just let us know if we can help you out or anything. Helping people goes both ways, you know.”

Wade kept in his _helping people isn’t the only thing that goes both ways_ comment because he was an adult, goddamnit. Instead he just said, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Wade hung up and walked around the dingy apartment until Al yelled at him to quit pacing. "My fucking apartment," he muttered, but he did as requested ( _requested my ass,_ his brain argued) and ended up slumped over the couch. His mind wandered until it reached his new favorite subject: Peter.

Wade wouldn't call himself introspective. Hell, most days he considered himself very firmly in the [Id](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Id,_ego_and_super-ego) category, [chaotic neutral](http://easydamus.com/chaoticneutral.html) if one wanted to be specific. He pretty much leaned into it and as long as he wasn't actively hurting good people, he called it a successful day.

But he had been brooding since his accident, and not just about his missing kidney. He was at almost [Mr. Darcy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr._Darcy) levels of brooding, all over Peter. Wade wanted to know all about him. He wanted to know what made him laugh, what made him cry, how he felt curled up in Wade's arms, what he looked like in the mornings, before he went to sleep, in the shower. Well, _little Wade_ was more interested in that thought. But Wade hadn't been this fascinated by a stranger in… well, maybe ever. 

He had yet to determine if the brooding over Peter was due to how cute he was or if it was the fact that Peter saved Wade's life. But he would admit (to no one) that he was a little smitten. _If only I had hair, I could twirl it around my finger like a love struck 14 year old girl,_ he thought snidely to himself. 

"Bad, Wade!" he verbally chastised his inner voice. "There's nothing wrong with teen girls."

Al chose that exact moment to walk into the living room. She looked at Wade (or at least where Wade thought _she_ thought he was, but in reality she was basically off by 45°) said, "Nope," and walked back to her room.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Wade shouted at her retreating figure. "I just meant that 14 year old girls have valid feelings and emotions, and I shouldn't use that as an insult!" 

Al didn't reply, but he heard her slam her door. He went back to daydreaming about Peter and eventually fell asleep on the lumpy couch.


	3. Everything is awesome (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally in the same place and no one dies!

Almost a month had gone by after Peter saved Wade, his _soulmate,_ if Janet was to be believed. He had yet to bring up the subject with any of the Avengers; he made sure he was always wearing a shirt while in their company so his soul mark was hidden. It wasn’t so much that he was ashamed, it was more that the Avengers were nosey. And if he hadn’t told his bestie, that he had some new, unintentional ink, he sure as hell wasn’t gonna tell Tony Stark, who meant well, but who also was the most gossipy gossip to ever have gossiped. He would thank MJ for that description later. 

So, the month had gone by. At first, things were normal and there were no big freak outs from Wade. He did his business as Spider-Man, patrolling Queens; visited May; hung out with his friends on the weekends; and taught his classes. Then three weeks after the _incident_ , as Janet had taken to calling it, he was once again, in an alley blind and deaf, his Spidey Sense going haywire. Then the next week, another _episode_ , this time in the middle of his class. He had played it off as low blood sugar and released the class early. The next day brought another episode, this time while patrolling again. 

“Goddamnit, Wade,” he grumbled. He was on a rooftop observing the streets but thankfully there were no evil villains or pickpockets to fight. “What am I gonna do if you almost die when I’m fighting someone? Am I going to have to give up being Spidey?” he muttered.

Deciding the night was a wash, he swung over to Gwen and MJ’s apartment, thankful that they both knew his alter-ego. 

“‘Sup Spider-dude,” MJ said as he landed on their balcony. She had her tablet and was drawing in the cold air. “Gwen has a huge paper due, so you can’t bother her.”

Peter shrugged. “I can hang out with you, unless you’re too important.” He moved so he could peek at what she was drawing. “I mean, Stucky fanart is _valid_ , but if you’re free, I could use somebody smart to talk to.”

“If you want brains, Gwennie is really your girl. If you want an honest opinion, I’m here for you.”

Peter smiled, knowing it was hidden under his mask. “Sure. I just—” he let out a big sigh. “You don't have to keep any of this a secret from Gwen. The only reason you’re hearing it first is because you’re keeping me away from her.” 

MJ nodded. “Color me intrigued, Spides. Continue.”

“So you remember on my birthday I was complaining about going to Tony’s because my Spidey Sense was going crazy?” MJ nodded. “So, Janet, my AI—”

“Wait, you have artificial intelligence?!?” MJ squawked. “Do you _need_ more smarts, Dragon-boy?”

Peter blushed a little. He and Gwen had bonded in high school in advanced biochem and that had started the basis of their decade long friendship. He knew MJ thought Gwen was smart, but having her articulate that she thought _Peter_ was intelligent was… unexpected. “Um, Janet is mostly like a personal assistant.”

“I do _so_ much more than that,” Janet chimed in, salty for an AI.

Peter sighed. “Fine. Janet is my right-hand woman. She helps me when I’m stuck; she monitors my health so if I end up stabbed in an alley I get the help I need. She’s the wind beneath my wings, the light that guides me home, all the platitudes, Janet.”

MJ smirked. “Sounds like she’s got you whipped, Spider-Man.”

Peter sighed. “She controls the Wi-Fi in my apartment.”

Nodding, MJ just said, “Understood. But back to the subject that was like four conversations ago, what did Janet do?”

“The day of my birthday, I woke up with a mark on my chest.”

“Kinky.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Not _that_ kind of mark. She ran some initial tests and said the mark wasn’t anything she could identify; that it wasn’t man-made or something from like, nature. She suggested—”

“It was more than a _suggestion_ , Spider-Man.” Janet was _extra_ salty, apparently.

“Fine." Pete sighed. "She said it was a soul mark and that the guy I saved that day was my soulmate. Since then, I’ve had three times that my senses went haywire and I don’t know what to do. I love Tony, but he’s like an overbearing Italian mother, so I don’t want to go to him at this point. So I thought ‘hey, Gwen is cool and also non judgemental. I can ask her,’ but you’re out here, so I’m apparently going to spill my guts to you.”

MJ’s mouth was open a little and her eyes were huge. “Spidey, _soulmates?_ That’s so cool. I thought they were just a legend.”

“That’s what I thought,” Peter said. “Janet did some research and found some precedent, so it’s apparently a real thing. But my problem is apparently Wade, the guy, keeps almost dying?” Peter’s voice was going up in pitch the longer he talked. He took a deep breath. “And he’s fucking with my patrolling. I don’t know what he’s doing to almost die _again,_ but I can’t be Spider-Man if I’m afraid he’s going to fuck up my senses because he’s in trouble.”

He stopped talking, just looking out at the skyline from the balcony. He shivered a little, wishing he had a blanket like MJ instead of a tight spandex suit. _I need to ask Tony about some heat regulation,_ he mused as he waited on MJ to respond.

“It sounds like you need to find him.”

Peter let out a sigh. “I mean, I _know_ that, but also like, I don’t really want to do that. Why does fate, destiny, some fucked up higher power get to tell me who I’m supposed to be with? I’m both a scientist and agnostic. Higher powers are this nebulous thing that _might_ exist. Why does it have to be that fate is gonna bite me in the ass?”

MJ let out a gentle laugh. “Yeah, you and Gwen and all your _logic_. But honestly what’s logical about love? Emotions are the most unscientific thing in the world. You can't make a pie chart about how you feel so why would something like having a soulmate be any different? It defies logic because there _is_ no logic.”

Peter huffed out another sigh. He was glad that nobody else was around to hear him do his best impression of Steve when he was trying to mother-hen the Avengers. “I mean…” He took a deep breath. “You’re not wrong?”

MJ glared at him. “I’m more than just _not wrong_ , Spider-Man. And of all the people in the world you're somebody who has had superpowers given to him by a fluke accident, and I feel like you should be the first one to realize there are some things out there that just can’t be explained.” She put her tablet down and came to stand by Peter. “It’s a tough cop, Spidey, but I really think you need to find Wade.”

Deep in his heart, he knew she was right. In fact, he had started the conversation knowing MJ would be a better person to talk to about soulmates than Gwen, simply because she didn’t view the world through a scientist’s goggles. They balanced each other, MJ and Gwen, and, at times, Peter needed to borrow MJ’s wider view of the world. 

He gave her a sarcastic salute. “Thank you random citizen,” he said in his best _Spider-Man_ voice. “I hope you and your girlfriend have a lovely night. I only guessed at her name because I don’t really know either of you.”

MJ smiled at him. “Yes, spider-themed Avenger. It was lovely meeting you for the very first time.” She reached her hand out to shake and pulled him close when he accepted. “Come back and talk to us as _you_ when you can. We can order Thai.”

Peter nodded. “Have a lovely evening, person I’ve never seen before.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “Don’t lay it on too thick, Spider-Man,” she muttered. Peter smirked under his mask and shot some webbing off to make his way back to his apartment.

——

Tony had done some of his magic, and now Janet was better able to predict when Peter was about to lose his senses. Apparently his heart would skip a beat right before, so he was fairly confident he could still patrol with the advanced knowledge of any attacks. 

Peter was patrolling one night when he saw a muscular man in a red hoodie with a big black X on the back running away. He looked around to see if the man was being threatened or if he was the one stirring up trouble. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, but not able to tear himself away, he followed the man down an alley and crouched on a rickety fire escape.

“Ha,” the man gasped. “Let Al find me _now_ ,” he said with a chuckle. “Fucking super-senses my ass.”

Peter furrowed his brow, then something caught his attention. “Janet, would you zoom in on that guy’s hand?”

“Of course, Peter. I would be happy to zoom in on Wade’s hand.”

Peter fell off the ladder.

“Whoa, there, red spandex suit guy,” Wade said with concern in his voice. “Are you OK? Cause, not gonna lie, that suit doesn’t look like it would lend itself to giving you any extra cushioning.”

Peter pulled himself up out of the corner where he had fallen.

Wade’s eyes got huge. “Are you— ARE YOU SPIDER-MAN?!?” he shouted. Peter nodded and motioned for Wade to come to where he was standing. Wade did so with a huge smile. “You’re my favorite Avenger!” he said. “Your moral code is second only to Captain America and his ass is only second to yours! You’re my top two spank bank—"

“Wade!” Peter hissed. “Shut the fuck up!”

Wade stood stock still. “Holy shit! How do you know my name?” 

—— 

So Wade was having the _weirdest_ day. It had started fairly normally: waking up and having a lazy morning; jerking off in the shower; shouting at Al; having Al shout at him; deciding, after more shouting, where to go for breakfast ( when was actually at like, six in the evening); then challenging her to a _your other senses haven’t been heightened because you’re blind you dumbass, if that was true, you could find me on any street_ game and running off.

Then he met Spider-Man, and this was where things got really weird, because _Spider-Man_ knew Wade’s name.

“Holy shit! How do you know my name?” he shrieked, not caring if anybody heard him, even if it meant having Al find him and losing their game.

Spider-Man didn’t say anything, but he grabbed Wade by his hoodie and pulled him to the door of the building. “Hey! Careful with the hoodie!” he fussed. It was his favorite hoodie with the X on the back and ["is gon give it to ya"](https://youtu.be/OH_Xf35mzLA) printed on the breast. Spider-Man ignored Wade and broke the door, dragging Wade into the, apparently, abandoned building “Do you realize this is B&E?” he whispered.

“It’s empty,” Spider-Man whispered back. “I’ll pay to have somebody replace the door if it’s gonna bother you.”

Wade shook his head. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck, but I [_literally_](https://youtu.be/UgnxlpSQgqg) just waxed poetic about your moral code.”

“ _OhmygodWade_ ,” Spider-Man said in a rush. “Is this what I have to look forward to for forever? A lifetime of you always getting into some sort of trouble and never shutting up? Because I swear on everything that is holy, I will find a way—”

“I’m sorry, but could you [be kind rewind](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0799934), Spider-Man. What do you mean, ‘look forward to for forever?’ Do I _know_ you?”

Then Spider-Man did the unthinkable and pulled his mask off. 

Wade fainted

——

Regaining consciousness was weird. It wasn't _quite_ waking up; things were black and then the senses slowly came back online. _It's more like a Windows Vista reboot,_ Wade thought as he finally opened his eyes.

Spider-Man was pacing around the room grumbling to himself. "Can't _fucking_ believe he fainted," he muttered. "At least I didn't lose _my_ senses this time."

"Hey, uh, Spider-Man," Wade croaked out. "I don't know if you'd realize this but—"

"Wade, if you start spewing nonsense at me, I can't be responsible for my actions." He turned around and to Wade's shock, it was Peter.

"Peter?!?" he shouted.

Peter looked around and shushed him. "Fuck's sake, Wade. Could you not use my real name when I'm in the costume?"

Wade frowned at him. "Dude you just unmasked yourself. I think if somebody was gonna spy on you, that would have been the bigger nugget of knowledge." 

Peter blushed.

Wade was charmed beyond all belief. "So, uh… You come here often?" he asked, not really understanding anything.

Peter shoved his mask back on and came to crouch down where Wade was on the dirty floor. "Why yes, I am constantly frequenting spooky as fuck buildings with men I render unconscious." He let out a bark of laughter. " _Actually,_ that's probably more true than it should be." He shook his head and reached over to grab Wade's shoulder and pulled him up to a sitting position. "You OK like this?"

Wade nodded. His ears weren't ringing, he didn't feel like he was underwater, and he didn't have the hot chills, so he didn't think he was going to pass out again. "Yeah, I think the danger has passed, Spider-Man."

Peter looked him over and came to a decision. "Have you got a phone on you?"

Wade nodded again and pulled out his beat-up Android. Peter took it to type something in. "I can't explain everything like this, but if you text me, we can figure out a way to meet up as _us_."

——

The night was a bust for Spider-Man, but _Peter_ had had a rather illuminating night. For all that he bitched about Wade's rambling, something deep in his chest, settled as they talked. He wasn't sure if it was the obvious crush on Spider-Man or Wade's reaction to seeing Peter as, well, _Peter_ , but just being around the other man calmed the frantic feeling Peter had carried since Wade died in his arms.

He headed to an alley close to his apartment so he could quickly change back into his regular clothes and couldn't quite bite back a smile remembering how Wade had looked when Peter gave him his number; equal parts of joy and surprise crossed his scarred face.

As he was zipping up the hoodie over his suit, his phone buzzed in his jeans. 

_itsssss wade_

Peter smiled.

_I assumed so_

_when can you meet up_

_Soon? I have to work tomorrow morning, but I should be done by 3. Do you have any plans?_

_nothing except sleeping and shouting at my roomie_

Peter sent back a list of some coffee shops and a bookstore that were close to ESU but weren’t usually overly crowded in the early afternoon. They agreed to meet, and Peter finally left the alley to walk to his apartment. As soon as he got inside, he sent an SOS message to the _spider gang_.

——

“So, wait,” Proper Peter started. He had obviously come from the gym because, instead of his normal suit, he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. “This guy you saved, you’re telling us he’s your _soulmate_?”

All of Peter’s friends had come to his apartment after his text. MJ and Gwen had squeezed themselves into the single armchair while Proper Peter, Noir, and Miles had taken over the couch. Peter was pacing in his little kitchen area while Peni stood to the side, watching everything.

Answering Proper Peter, MJ nodded. “Apparently Pete’s got some new, unasked for ink and his robot says it’s a soul mark.”

“[Not a robot](https://youtu.be/CwwzMw8RDWA),” Janet chimed in.

“Yeah, Janet really doesn’t like that,” Peni added absent-mindendly. “But Janet thinks it’s a soul mark? Peter, that’s _incredible_.”

“Incredibly stupid,” Gwen said. When everybody turned to look at her, she shrugged. “Face it, Peter Parker has the worst luck of us all. First all the spider business, now he can’t even control his dating life? That’s _stupid_.”

Miles nodded in agreement while MJ looked at her girlfriend with a frown. 

“I think it’s really interesting that Peter is the only one of us who has both a mutation and a soulmate,” Noir said. “It’s really a pickle. Did the mutation set him up for the soulmate thing or was he destined to get the powers because he’s also destined for a soulmate? Either way, it’s weird that he has not one but two really unique things about him.”

Peni must have seen Peter’s frown because she came up to him and gave him a little hug. “It’s OK, Peter. We’re all here for you.”

“Yeah,” Miles interjected. “It might seem batshit crazy, but I’ve never known Janet to be wrong about something.”

“Thank you, Miles,” Janet said, satisfaction clear in her tone.

“How the fuck did you get an AI who emotes?” MJ asked with obvious curiosity. 

Proper Peter started to laugh. “He pissed off Tony Stark, is what he did.” 

Peter flipped him off. Miles, Noir, and Gwen all started to laugh as well. MJ was looking at them all like they had turned green and grown spikes on their faces. Then to his _horror,_ Peni joined in the laughter.

“No!” he complained. “Not you too, Peni!”

“Sorry, Peter, but it’s your own fault,” she replied.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you at home,” Gwen whispered to MJ. Knowing Peter would have overheard, she winked at him.

“Anyway, can we get back to the increasingly hard-to-believe things that keep happening to me?” he whined.

“Cool down, Peter,” Noir said. “We’re here to help.”

“Yeah, sorry we’re being jackasses,” Peni chimed in to say. “While everything with Tony is funny, you having a soul mark and soulmate isn’t something to laugh at.”

Miles nodded. “Again, Janet is never wrong. Can you fill us in?”

As Janet began to tell them about everything she had found, Gwen got up off the chair she was sharing and came over to Peter and Peni to usher them to the couch. She made Noir and Proper Peter move to the floor, and Peter was able to sit with his least sarcastic friends, Gwen, Peni, and Miles.

——

Peter wasn’t sure how time worked the next day. He got to ESU on time, started his first class, seemed to go through his entire lecture, but when he checked the clock, only half the allotted time had passed. He let them go early with a mumbled _read the chapter_ because he was _sure_ he had missed content. Then his second class seemed to be over as soon as it had started. His short lunch break seemed to take a day and a half and his time overseeing the students in the lab was over in seconds. 

_Finally_ it was time to go meet Wade. He sent a text to the group to let them know he was meeting Wade. They had insisted for _safety_. Proper Peter had been extra unhelpful with his advice. 

“Peter, when I was a kid, I was visited by the fairy godfather of _[Street Smarts](https://youtu.be/AWX0mWNHHPg)_ , Detective JJ Bittenbinder. He always told us ‘so when you get kidnapped, the place where the guy grabs ya, in the biz we call that the **primary location**. OK. Your odds of coming back alive from the primary location, about 60%. But if you are taken to a **secondary location** , your odds of coming back alive are slim to none.’ Don't let him take you to a secondary location. Ol' Bittenbinder has never steered me wrong.”

Peter had rolled his eyes. He was _Spider-Man,_ and Wade was still recovering from the loss of an organ. But he had promised Proper Peter he wouldn’t go to a secondary location all the same.

Now that Peter was approaching the **primary location** (he took a second to curse Proper Peter for putting that nonsense in his head) , though, his palms felt sweaty and his stomach was rolling a little. What could he possibly have in common with a former Canadian-military-possible-mercenary, random dude? 

A lot apparently. At least as far as social anxiety went.

“Sorry, Peter, Sp— shit, Peter. I didn’t know where you would want to sit, so I left my stuff on three tables,” Wade said looking everywhere but at Peter.

With the sudden realization that Wade was just as nervous as Peter, he began to relax for the first time since he had unmasked himself the night before. 

“Wade,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “It’s OK. I’m fine with whatever table you like best.” Peter smiled and leaned down to Wade. “I’m nervous too,” he whispered. 

Wade let out a huge breath. “Oh thank Hela. I’ve been freaking out since yesterday. Why did you—” he waved his arms around. 

“Um, should you get your stuff from the other tables?”

“Oh, yeah, good call Petey. Can I call you Petey?” he asked with a big smile.

Realizing he could say no, but it was kind of a dick move, Peter nodded. “Don’t overuse it.”

Wade gave him a little salute and went to gather up his hoodie and bag and came back over to Peter. 

“So,” Peter started. “Do you remember the day we met in the subway?”

Wade perked up. “You mean the day I died? Yeah, fresh in the ol’ brain.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “You were gone like—”

“Doesn’t matter, Petey-pie. Dead is dead.” Wade winked at Peter, and Peter didn’t find it _cute_. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Peter continued, trying to get back to the topic at hand. Which was the soulmate/soul mark _destiny_ bullshit. “Did you happen to wake up with a weird spot over your heart?”

——

An hour later, Peter had told Wade _everything_. The soul marks, the loss of his senses, hell even how he had become Spider-Man. That part of the conversation had a vague _ya know_ and some aimless gestures. But somehow Peter had gotten Wade to understand and to agree that when Peter was patrolling, Wade would be somewhere safe.

At least that’s what Peter had they had agreed on. But a scant six hours later, Peter was perched on a rooftop and Wade walked up.

"Hey, Spidey-babe," he said as if running into each other was a common occurrence.

" _Wade,_ " Peter huffed out. "We _just_ talked about this! You're supposed to be somewhere safe!"

"There's nowhere safer than with you, my arachnid influenced boo."

Peter was glad the mask hid his face, because between Wade saying he was safe with Peter and the weird pet name, Peter could feel himself blushing a little. And smiling. And Wade couldn't be _rewarded_ for hanging out with Peter when he was trying to stop crime. "Be that as it may—" 

"Ooh, fancy Spides," Wade interrupted with a slight leer.

With an eye roll, Peter stood up and turned to look at Wade. "Dude. I'm glad you're interested in this part of me, but it's still dangerous."

Wade scoffed. "Danger schmanger," he replied. "I'm really good at hiding, Spidey. Like, really good. When I was in the military, they called me Deadpool because of all the guys in my unit, I was the one who always escaped from trouble. When they were trying to guess who was gonna go first, my name never came up. I somehow always beat the odds on the _dead pool_."

Peter took a step back. "That's…" he started, his mind in shock. "That's incredibly morbid," he finally settled on.

Wade smiled. "Yeah, but it's true! Even stabby bastard who took my kidney couldn't keep me down for long."

Giving up on patrolling, at least for the next hour, Peter scanned the roof for a well hidden spot. He found one and started walking over, motioning for Wade to do the same. "Speaking of your kidney, how are you doing with all of that?"

Wade shrugged. "Eh, you know, as well as can be expected. It's been long enough that I'm back to my full strength, but I still get aches when it rains. I'm still kicking though."

Peter gave him a skeptical look that he was sure went unnoticed thanks to the mask. He settled down and patted the ground next to him. Wade looked a little surprised but happily sat down next to Peter, making Peter feel warm and comfortable.

——

So... Wade had a soulmate. Not only did he have a soulmate, said soulmate was both cute Peter who saved Wade's life _and_ Spider-Man. Wade was reacting to that news in an _excellent_ manner.

"Get the fuck off the floor, Wade," Al growled as she made her way into the living room. "Ya damn fool."

So... Wade maybe _wasn't_ reacting to that news in an excellent manner. He lifted up his head. “Al, you’re old. Have you ever heard of soulmates?”

Al let out a big sigh. “OK, so just because I’m old and black doesn't mean I’m gonna turn into your mystic black woman. The only useful thing I ever remember telling you is how to get blood out of your shirt after a nosebleed. I’ve actively avoided playing into the trope of giving you, a sad white boy, meaningful advice to advance your life’s story. 

“All that being said, _of course_ I’ve fucking heard of soulmates. Did you suddenly wake up with a weird spot over your heart? Because if so, I’ve got bad news and you’ve got a soul mark. Otherwise leave me alone, I want to grill a cheese.” She walked into their tiny kitchen.

Wade perked up. “Oof, grill me one too, please.” Then he groaned. “Fuck. I totally woke up with a mark on my chest. Peter’s not making this up.” He dropped his head down to the floor. “Ugh. Why is my life so weird?”

“Grill your own goddamned cheese,” was Al’s only reply.

Wade pulled his phone out. 

_peter sos i’m freaking out how did you not freak out_

_Dude, I totally freaked out. I’m done for the day if you want to hang out?_

Wade nodded and rolled over. “I’m leaving, Al. Don’t die!”

She walked out of the kitchen. “Wade, sit your ass down. I made you a sandwich, and you will be appreciative.” 

_gotta eat a sammich text me deets and ill be there soon_

_ish_

Wade put his phone away and got up to his feet. “Al, you _shouldn’t_ have!”

—— 

Two sandwiches and a couple of texts later, Wade was with Peter at the movie theater that had old movies for six dollars and at weird times. “I remember when you could see a movie for two dollars,” Wade grumbled as he settled into his seat. The floor was, happily, only partially sticky. 

Peter smiled back at him. “OK, grandpa,” he teased. 

“Not that old,” Wade shot back. “How old are you, anyway? Your clothes say 90, but your face says 23.”

Peter’s cheeks got pink and Wade let out an internal squee. “Um, I turned 30 the day you… well, when we met.”

“Aww,” Wade crooned. “Happy belated birthday! I’m 36,” he said proudly. “And somehow still alive.” Peter shot him a concerned look. “Again, Petey, I’m _very_ good at staying alive. I’m the king of hide and seek if the point of the game is to hide from guerrilla warfare types.”

Peter rested his face in his hands. “Please, Wade. _Please_ ” he begged. “Try to stay away from situations that threaten your life from the hours of 8 PM to 2 AM.”

Wade knocked his shoulder into Peter’s. “I already promised, PP.” He shuddered. “Oof, I don’t think I’ll stick with that one.”

“Thank god,” Peter answered as the lights started to dim. 

The Dimension Films logo came on the screen. “Man, the 90s were so weird,” he remarked as _[The Faculty](https://youtu.be/ig9HztI9-nY)_ started. “I saw this when it originally came out. It’s _some kind_ of movie,” Wade remarked as he sneaked a peek at Peter.

Peter was smiling at the screen, and Wade decided to move his hand _right_ next to Peter’s. His pinkie twitched. “Holy shit!” Wade squeaked out. “That’s that [guy](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Patrick) from Terminator who isn’t the Terminator!”

Wade felt Peter’s shoulders move a little and suddenly he was leaning into Wade’s space. “Is that [Usher](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usher_\(musician\))?” he asked. “I didn’t know he acted.”

“Dude, the 90s,” was all Wade could offer.

“Whaaaaat? That’s [Lilith](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bebe_Neuwirth), Frasier’s ex!” Wade exclaimed. “She’s got like two Tonys. Why is she in this?”

Peter giggled and Wade moved his pinkie so they were locked together. He could see Peter’s blush in the lights from the movie. “This movie is so bad it’s good,” he whispered. Peter squeezed Wade’s finger with his own.

“Damn!” Peter almost shouted at the movie. “Did he just stab her with a _pencil_?”

Someone in the front row turned around and loudly shushed them. Wade stuck out his tongue. 

Wade didn’t pay any attention to the screen as he looked down at their hands. Peter had long, delicate fingers, _like a musician,_ his inner voice suggested. Wade’s fingers were scarred and rough and he felt bad that Peter was saddled with him as a soulmate. _At least I have a great jawline_ he consoled himself.

“OK, dude!” Peter whispered, conscious of the cranky person in the front of the theater. The _only_ other person in the theater besides Wade and Peter. “A, that’s a shitty parking job, [guy](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josh_Hartnett) from Penny Dreadful and B, _homygod_ what is up with your [hair](https://images.app.goo.gl/rgEv7Mqm2UnpwXzN6)?”

Wade laughed and captured the rest of Peter’s hand so they were holding hands. They watched in silence until “[Frodo](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elijah_Wood)! [Don't wear the ring](https://youtu.be/lemgdzLDYqA)!” Peter giggled again and Wade felt his heart grow [three sizes](https://youtu.be/fGSs33DQ1F0). Or seven. Or however many heart sizes it was when someone made their _soulmate_ giggle because of some stupid running commentary on a dumb horror movie. He forced his eyes back to the screen.

“Hey, it’s _[not](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jordana_Brewster)_ Michelle Rodriguez from the Fast and the Furious franchise,” Wade said, a little hoarse from being all emotional.

“Ugh, again like L’il Sebastian,” he complained in a creaky voice. 

“[You're 5,000 candles in the wind](https://youtu.be/h-PUW6y4F6c),” Peter crooned back to him.

 _OMG!!!_ Wade’s inner monologue screeched. _[You complete me](https://youtu.be/h-PUW6y4F6c)!!!_ Wade’s little voice swooned, and he felt himself start to blush a little bit. He played it cool and winked at Peter.

The movie kept playing, and Peter kept making comments under his breath when weird things happened, but Wade was so caught up in the fact that he maybe _had_ found his soulmate. Not many people _got_ Wade. He was a little rough around the edges, a little too loud (all the time), a little funky to look at, he didn’t have a job to speak of, the list of the _weird_ things went on and on. But Peter, this beautiful man sitting next to him, with big brown eyes, messy hair, and a smile that almost broke Wade’s heart, _Peter_ didn’t seem to mind any of that. 

He was caring and giving; his alter-ego proved that. Spider-man had been bad-mouthed by the press from the second he put on his tight suit, but he had never let that interfere with his task of protecting people. Peter was snarky, sassy, and fun but he was also _kind_. Wade had scoured the internet for nuggets of info on Peter Parker, and he had found out three things.

One, Peter was smart. Like, genius level smart. Wade found the write-up that his school newspaper had done when he graduated. Peter graduated young, scored high on all his tests, got offered so many scholarships, and basically was everything Wade was not, academically speaking. But for all that, he had never made Wade feel insecure about his mid-level intellect. In fact, when they started talking about going to school and Peter's job and working at ESU, Peter had been so reassuring, saying that just because he was book-smart didn't mean he wasn't also dumb.

Which led Wade right to the second thing about Peter: he was incredibly funny. The quips that he spit out while fighting were insane. Wade had spent an hour giggling while reading interviews with the criminals Spider-man had brought to justice. Peter was quick on his feet, both literally and figuratively.

And three, he was _dreamy_. Wade had squinted at profile pics on various social media sites, trying to get a good picture. When Wade died, he only had a brief memory of a cute face. Then, in Wade's shocked frame of mind, after Spidey had unmasked himself, Wade hadn't been able to properly look at Peter. The pictures helped fill in some of the gaps, but when they met up for coffee, Wade was taken aback by just how hot Peter was, his _just rolled out of bed hair_ , his warm brown eyes, his easy smile. He was like an 80s rom-com lead. Sexy, but in an approachable way.

“What the fuck? Is that _[Jon Stewart](https://youtu.be/h-PUW6y4F6c)_?” Peter’s surprised question broke into Wade’s musing.

“Peter. The 90s were an interesting time. You were just a wee babe, but I was in, like, middle school. Don’t question the 90s. Just go with it,” Wade intoned in a faux-zen manner. Peter just squeezed his hand and the rest of the movie went by in a blur.

After, they stumbled out like they were drunk. The headiness of sitting so close to Peter and whispering back and forth had gone to Wade’s head. He hadn’t felt this happy, this _content,_ in as long as he could remember. 

They split up after making plans for the next day. Peter needed to go patrol, _alone_ he insisted and Wade thought he should really make food for Al since she had made him sandwiches earlier. Fair was fair, and cooking for Al was one of the less dangerous things Wade did.

——

Peter was busy after that, so they texted when they could, but finally, after a few days, they were able to make plans. That night, Wade had been invited for dinner and hanging out before patrolling. Wade was a little apprehensive. He texted Peter that even though they were in fact, soulmates, they were still basically strangers. His phone rang.

“One soulmate-to-a-beautiful boy speaking,” he answered.

Peter sputtered out a little laugh. “Hey, Wade,” he said warmly. “I’m glad you’re looking after my safety, really I am. But did you forget what I do with most of my evenings? Plus, I have several superheroes on speed dial if I can’t take care of things on my own.” He paused. “That was a joke, NSA agent. I don’t actually know Tony Stark. Or Steve Rogers. Please don’t come after me, government cronie. It’s just a meme.”

Wade laughed. “Oh yeah, that new thing that’s all over Vine.”

Peter groaned. “I miss Vine,” he complained. “But _anyway,_ government spying, notwithstanding, I can take care of myself. And you worrying about it all makes me feel even better.”

“It could be a _[ruse, you big dumb idiot](https://tv.getyarn.io/yarn-clip/5eb93567-2491-413e-acf0-2f4f69095c08)_.”

“Hey!” Peter sounded indignant.

“Sorry!” Wade rushed out. “Just got caught in the moment.” He took a breath. “OK, so if you’re sure, I’ll be there at six?”

“Sounds good. Spaghetti?”

Wade would eat almost anything, so he told Peter. “Hell yeah! I’ll eat almost anything. See you soon Petey-pie!”

Wade spent the next few hours stress cleaning his place, much to Al’s delight. Then he hopped in the shower because he was smelling _ripe._ Finally, it was time to go to Peter’s. He checked the address on his phone and started walking towards the subway. Two trains and a few blocks later and he was looking up at the building where Peter lived. 

“You can do this, Wade,” he whispered to himself. “He’s seen you in broad daylight, scars and all. He gets you. He holds your hand. Go eat food with beautiful Peter.”

His phone buzzed and he looked down.

_I can see you down there freaking out. Come up, I’m on the third floor. Dinner is ready_

Wade smiled and headed into the building.

——

After dinner, Peter awkwardly cleared the small table. He kept picking up things and then putting them back down. “Sorry, I’m just nervous,” he said with a shy smile. “Don’t get many guests besides my best friends. I, uh, spent the last hour nervously cleaning everything.”

Wade got up and walked over to him. “Can I hug you?” Peter nodded and Wade wrapped him in his arms. “I did the same thing,” he mumbled into Peter’s hair. “We’re such nerds.” He felt Peter laugh and when they broke from the hug, they both seemed calmer.

“So, I was told we would also be watching something. I wore my cozy hoodie so we could snuggle if you wanted.” 

Peter waved over to the couch and TV. “Yeah, I only get like four channels and two of them are public access, but we can stream something. Just make yourself comfortable while I put everything in to soak.” 

Wade did as he was told, walked the short distance to the couch, and made himself comfortable. After a few moments of sitting still, but feeling a little anxious, he made himself look around Peter’s apartment. It definitely reflected Peter’s personality. It was tiny, sure, but it was colorful and cheery and clean. He had a poster of beautiful, colorful abstract circles and ovals. Wade got up to look more closely at it and it had the names of infectious diseases under each picture. Next to that was a collage of Peter and people who Wade assumed were Peter’s friends. Under that was a picture of a couple on their wedding day. The clothes were dated so Wade assumed it was Peter’s aunt and uncle. 

One of their longer phone conversations had touched on family, and Peter told Wade about losing his parents when he was young and being raised by his Aunt May and Uncle Ben, only to lose his uncle around the same time he got his powers. Before Wade got too upset about it (because he really liked Peter, he didn’t want him to be sad ever again), Peter was walking the short distance from the kitchenette to the couch. 

“I see you found my friends and family,” he said, taking a seat on the couch. “I’ve told them all about you. When you’re ready, I would love for you to all meet.” 

Wade took an unsteady breath. “Look, I know you’re stuck with me, but you don’t have to, like, show me off. I’m happy to just stay in the shadows. I know I’m rough around the edges and not easy to look at and you’re like the epitome of goodness and honestly you look like you should be on a Wheaties box and I just—”

“Wade,” Peter interrupted. “If we’re going to make this work, it will be as partners. I want to meet the people in your life and I want you to meet my people. You’re not going to be my secret or anything. That would be a disservice to us both. We don’t have to rush into anything, but I will not keep you hidden.”

There Peter went again, making Wade _feel_ things. “Fucking feelings,” he sighed out. But he nodded and went over to settle himself into the spot Peter was patting beside him. He almost purred when Peter melted into his side.

“I’m half-way through season two of a true crime show that focuses on Florida if you want to watch that. Otherwise we can just look through everything until we find something else.”

“No, that sounds good,” Wade answered, daring to stretch his arm around Peter’s shoulder. He smiled as Peter started the show and rubbed his head on Wade’s shoulder.

“This next crime took place outside of Miami,” the narrator intoned. Wade had pretty much quit paying attention because he could smell Peter’s hair from their position and he wasn’t used to such close contact. He closed his eyes and just let himself lose track of everything that wasn't Peter.

“Oh my god, are you watching?” Peter asked a few minutes later. Wade roused himself from his stupor.

“Uh, not really, sorry, I zoned out a little,” he admitted.

“Somebody stole the air conditioning unit out of a house. Like, the big fucking piece outside and the one inside,” Peter said in disbelief. “Who _does_ that?”

Wade thought for a second. “Ninjas.”

Peter laughed into Wade’s side. “Ninjas? Really? I just thought it would be like really buff dudes. Those have to weigh like a thousand pounds.” 

Shaking his head, Wade replied, “Nah, they’re only like 300 pounds, combined. They’re just unwieldy as _fuck_.”

He looked over at Peter who was giving him a weird look. “Where were you the summer of 2016? Because if you were in Florida, I have some questions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG MORE ART!!!
> 
> Wade's 1 (one) eyebrow! His _fangirl_ face!! Spidey's hurt head!! I screeched out loud when DroptheBeet sent me the art. It's so SO SO GOOD!!!!


	4. When you're living out a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings happen plus a kitten!!

The next day, Peter _knew_ he needed to go to the Tower and fill the Avengers in. He had been putting off telling Tony about Wade, because it was almost too weird to be true. But he knew keeping a secret would be worse the longer he kept it, so after he was done teaching, he made his way to the Tower. 

He got to the main living room and was happy to see Natasha and Clint were there, as well as Steve and Bucky who were curled up on the couch. He waved to them all and walked over to a free chair across from them. “Is, uh, Tony in?”

Nat gave him a skeptical look. “Why?”

Peter let out a sigh. “I need to talk to him, hell, to all of you, about some stuff.”

Steve looked up at him, concerned. “Is everything OK, Peter?”

Nodding, he avoided looking everyone in the eye. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just like normal _me_ weird shit.”

“Sir will be down in a moment, Peter." Jarvis' voice drifted into the room. "He wanted to know if you were staying for dinner because he was going to have me order something.” 

Peter let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll probably stay, Jarvis, unless Tony kicks me out.”

Steve gave him another concerned look. “Are you sure—”

“Hey, Pete! Good to see you!” Tony said, walking into the room. “Why does it look like someone died in here?”

“Did somebody _die_ , Peter? Because Bucky and I can help you hide the—”

“Clint,” Natasha interrupted him. “You are not as sneaky as you think you are. James, I would trust,” Bucky nodded at her in thanks, “but you are _far_ too clumsy to be subtle.”

Tony laughed and walked over to Peter, throwing his arm around his shoulder. “Seriously, what's up Peter?”

“Maybe we should sit down.”

After going through the whole story with his team, Peter felt a little strung out. There was less yelling than he had envisioned, but the disappointment was clear on Tony’s face.

“I already know what you’re going to say, Peter, so don’t waste your breath.” Tony walked away to the kitchen area and grabbed a drink. Steve gave him a look when he came back in. Tony threw up his hands. “You don’t think that was information he should have shared sooner, Steve?”

“Don’t start in on Steve,” Bucky interjected.

Peter heard Clint whisper to Natasha, “I’m gonna go make popcorn,” and then he stood up.

She glared and muttered something to him in Russian, then looked at the rest of the room. “James, Tony, stop bickering. And sit down, Clint. Peter, don’t leave. There are things you need to know.” 

“Natasha's right,” Steve responded. “Everybody needs to sit down and shut up.” Bucky started whispering to Steve, but Steve just shook his head. “Not my story,” he whispered back. Then, looking at Natasha, “You’re sure about this?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Steve. I think it’s time.”

With those ominous words, Natasha started talking in a calm, quiet voice. “When I was 16, I woke up with a black hourglass over my heart. Things in Russia were a lot different than things here; people believed in the mystical and treated what we would consider superstition as fact. So I knew it to be a soul mark as soon as I saw it. But I didn’t understand why it was so uniform. What we had been told as children was that your mark is half you, half your soulmate. But my entire mark was the mark of the Black Widow. 

“It took me less than a minute to realize my soulmate was one of my fellow trainees. I spent weeks trying to spy on the women in my cohort, but we were all similarly trained in deception and I had no luck. Finally, after a few weeks had gone by and I had given up on my search, my closest friend, Yelena Belova, came to me confessing that she had seen my mark and had one that matched.”

Bucky cursed under his breath while Peter felt his heart stutter. _Natasha has a soulmate?_

“So if you’ve got a mark, where is she? How come you haven’t invited her to one of our movie nights?” Tony asked. “We won’t run her off, I promise. My shovel talk has gotten—”

“Tony!” Steve barked. “Could you not? At least not right now?”

“Sorry,” Tony grumbled. “Just wanted to make sure—”

“The Winter Soldier’s mission in the fall of 1980 was to eliminate Yelena Belova,” Bucky said in a dead voice. He got up and walked out of the room without another word. 

Steve looked at Natasha who nodded. “I’ll, uh—I, yeah...” he stammered as he ran after Bucky.

“ _Shit!_ " Tony gritted out. “ _Shit!_ " he repeated. "Do you want a bunch of booze?”

“I’ve had almost 40 years to come to terms with it." Natasha shook her head and gave Tony a sad smile. "She was a threat to the Red Room at the time so they sent someone after her. The fact that it was James is incidental. He had no choice in the matter and until now, there was no reason to share the fact that we were soulmates.”

Peter scratched his neck. And let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I know you’re telling us this for a reason. Can you explain?”

“My soulmate died from outside sources so I wasn’t affected. If Yelena or I had died naturally, of old age, we would have followed each other. There was a couple in Wales…” she trailed off.

“Arthur and Molly Jones?” Peter interrupted. Natasha gave him a sharp look. “Janet’s good,” he replied. 

She nodded. “Yes, they were known soulmates. I hid their details as well as I could after they passed. And I’m _good_ at hiding things.”

“So is that why….” Tony started. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, it would appear, from Janet’s data, that the times Wade’s life was in danger were the same times Peter’s Spidey Sense acted up,” the AI replied. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Tony breathed out. “I need whiskey. Nat, Hawkguy, Spidey? Booze?” 

Peter shook his head, but Clint got up to follow Tony to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. 

“I’m so sorry,” Peter whispered to Natasha. 

She gave him another sad smile. “It’s been a long time, Peter. We never got the chance to fall in love. A soul mark only indicates the _potential_ for love, not the presence of it. She was my best friend, yes, but we were never lovers. We never were allowed to be normal girls in the Red Room. We grew up hard and fast and I miss her, but we just never had the chance to see where our lives would have taken us on the outside.”

Peter’s phone chirped at him. “Peter,” Janet said. “It’s late. If you’re going to patrol, you should think about starting soon.”

Natasha smiled at that, the first real smile since she'd told Peter about her loss. “Janet’s a good AI,” she said softly.” 

“Yeah, she’s a good bro,” Peter agreed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to leave so soon after you—”

“It’s fine,” Nat reassured him. “Go change and be Spider-Man. Just make sure you take care of yourself and Wade. He might be a grown man, but he doesn’t have super powers so he's at more risk than you. I’ll distract Tony so you can make a clean exit.”

Peter wanted to hug Natasha, but she wasn’t fond of displays of affection. So he tried to emote everything he was feeling through his eyes. She rolled her eyes and laughed a little. “You can hug me, you know. When you do that, you look deranged.”

They embraced, briefly, and Peter ran off to change into his costume. He had a headache from being emotionally hungover; he grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen and made his way to the roof so he could swing to Queens. The entire journey, his mind was busy with what he had learned about Natasha and soulmates.

——

Peter was definitely _not_ looking for Wade while he patrolled. He had wandered from Queens, out until he was meandering around The Bronx. Being Spider-Man meant that he could cover a lot of ground quickly. So what if he knew the general area of where Wade lived, he was just there to keep an eye on the neighborhood. He was the _friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,_ after all. It was just a coincidence.

“Wade lives right there,” Janet pointed out. Peter let out a sigh. 

“I’m not stalking him, Janet,” he said, a little petulantly. 

“If you say so, Peter,” she responded.

“I just— Did you hear what Nat told us?”

“Of course, Peter. And I understand you’re worried about Wade; I’m not judging you.” The _this time_ was clear from her voice.

“Should I text him?" he asked.

“I think he would enjoy seeing you. Especially since you just _happened_ to be around.” Janet’s voice was kind. 

_I may on the roof across from your building if you want to hang out_

_PETER I WOULD LOVE TOO ILL BE THERE IN 5_

_im not sorry about the caps_

Peter snorted out a little laugh, feeling better just from the thought of seeing Wade. As promised, he was on the roof five minutes after his text. Peter walked up to him and wrapped his arms around Wade’s waist and rested his head on his collarbone. Being this close to his soulmate was such a comforting feeling. He let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding when Wade returned his embrace.

“Hey, Spidey-babe, what’s up?”

“Just missed you,” Peter mumbled into him. “Heard something sad that I can’t share without being killed slowly and horribly, but it made me miss you.”

Wade tightened his arms and pressed a little kiss to the top of Peter’s head. “‘K,” he said. “Wanna just hang out?”

Peter nodded and finally released him. “Sorry for the extended hug,” he said as his cheeks heated and tears started to prick at his eyes. “I just— Fuck." He let out a harsh breath. "Somebody I know had a soulmate and lost them. I don’t wanna lose you, Wade.”

Wade was uncharacteristically somber. “I promise I will do my best to stay out of trouble. I can’t guarantee anything, but I will try so hard to stay with you until the end.”

Peter felt a little better at that. He grabbed Wade’s hand and led him to a dark corner. “You OK snuggling on cold concrete?”

“WIth you?” Wade asked. “Whenever you need.”

They sat down and Peter let himself slouch into Wade. They sat in silence for a few minutes. 

“You know, I could always come along on your patrols,” Wade suggested quietly.

“I think that would make me more nervous,” Peter admitted.

“There’s no _I_ in team, Spides.”

Rolling his eyes Peter retorted, “Yes, but there is a _me_.”

“But have you considered that, [you can't spell awesome without _me_](https://youtu.be/FuXNumBwDOM)?” Wade said with a big smile. “Honestly, whatever would make you feel better, I can do. I’m not gonna turn into a hermit or anything, but I’ll like, stay away from shady situations.”

“At least until I get over this freak-out, I would appreciate it.” Peter scanned the area and since it was clear, he reached down to hold Wade’s hand. Throwing caution to the wind, he wiggled his hand until Wade let it go and then took his mask off so he could see Wade through his own eyes, instead of through his mask. 

“There’s those beautiful brown eyes, baby boy,” Wade crooned.

Peter’s cheeks got hot. “Baby boy?” he squeaked.

“Well, yeah,” Wade said. “You’re my baby and you’re a boy. At least I think you’re a boy. Fuck, did I just misgender you? We never had the pronoun talk!”

“No, he/him is right,” Peter reassured him. “Thanks though.”

“So anything you want to do besides watch the cars go by?”

Peter shook his head. Being with Wade was exactly what he needed at that moment. If there was an emergency, he would go back out as Spider-Man, but for the moment, he needed to be _Peter_. “This is perfect.” 

As if the universe hated him, Janet immediately notified him of an incoming call from Tony. “Do you want me to keep this private, Peter?” she asked. 

“Sorry, it’s Tony, who knows what it’s about. Do you mind?” He gave Wade a little shrug as an apology.

“Nah, go do your thing, Spidey. I’ll be here trying to find the stars through all the lights. Let me know if you need anything.” Wade winked at him and laid back to stare at the sky. 

Peter walked a few feet away and put his mask back on. “Hey, Tony what’s up?”

“Just checking on you, kid. You left in a hurry after everything.”

Peter got a bunch of gooey feelings that he could never admit to Tony because his ego was big enough already. “Aw, thanks,” he said with a smile. “I’m OK, hanging out with Wade for a little bit. I just needed to get away from everything.”

“Yeah, I get that. If you’re really fine, I’ll let you go.” He waited a beat. “Seriously, Peter, if you need anything, tell me. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, it all seems so far-fetched. I might be slightly emotionally constipated, but I’ll try my best. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll see if Bruce or Thor can talk it out with you. They’re much more in touch with their emotions.”

Peter let out a laugh and turned to look at Wade. He was on his back, tracing shapes in the air with his finger and his feet were crossed at the ankles, toes tapping together to an unheard beat. “Yeah, Wade’s actually pretty good with emotional stuff. But thanks, I’ll talk to you later?”

Tony’s voice was fond when he replied, “Of course. Have a good night.”

Peter disconnected the call and started to walk back to Wade when he heard a weird squeaking noise. “Did you hear that?” he called out.

Wade lifted his head. “No? I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. You just stood over there in silence. It was kinda unnerving if I’m gonna be—”

“No,” Peter cut him off when he heard the noise again. He pointed away from where Wade was lounging. “It’s like a little squeak.”

“It’s probably a rat, Spidey-boo. New York has some humongous ratties. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Peter ignored him and walked towards the sound. It was a small animal, he could hear its frantic heartbeat the closer he got. Finally he got to where the sound was coming from and he heard, quite clearly, a tiny _meow._

“What is it?” Wade asked, still staring at the stars.

“A kitten,” Peter said. 

“A KITTEN?!?” Wade shrieked. 

Peter turned and gave him a sharp look. That… he probably couldn’t see because he had his mask on. “Wade! Don’t scare it!” he fussed. Wade scrambled up and made his way, calmly, to where Peter was standing.

“Where is it?” he whispered.

Peter pointed to where he could hear the tiny heartbeat. “I’m gonna see if it will let me pet it.” Wade nodded and stepped back to give Peter room to maneuver. “Thanks,” he whispered as he crouched down. “Kitty? I’m here to help. Where are you?”

The kitten meowed again, this time a really pitiful meow. Wade made an answering sound which set the kitten off again. So Wade meowed again, causing the kitten to meow. This went on for half a dozen times until Peter saw movement by his feet and a tiny black kitten started sniffing at his toes. He held out a finger for it to smell, and it broke into a rumbly little purr. 

“Oh you poor little thing,” Wade said softly. “You’re skin and bones. Do you want two daddies?”

Peter turned to Wade, holding his hands up in question. “You’re just gonna adopt a kitten with me?” The kitten nipped at Peter’s big toe through his costume, obviously unhappy at being ignored. “Damn, kitty, I’ll pet you more,” he quietly scolded. To make good on his promise, he put his hand back down by the kitten and scritched its little head. 

Wade snuck over to Peter and sat down beside him. “I can’t keep a kitten at my place, Al is great but she can’t do pets. And I don’t want you to have to be financially responsible for a roof-top cat. So if Felicia can live with you, I’ll pay for everything. So… two dads!”

“Felicia?” Peter asked. “What if it's a boy cat?” 

“Phillip then,” Wade snarked back. 

Sighing, Peter picked up the kitten. He snuck a quick glance at its nethers. “Looks like a female kitten, approximately four weeks old,” Janet supplied. Peter just shook his head and smiled. He stood up and stretched his back a little as the kitten curled up in his arm and purred as much as she could.

“OK, Janet says it’s a girl cat and very young. I guess I can take her home with me if you don’t mind going out and getting like kitten food and a litter box and, you know what? I’ll have Janet text you what we might need because honestly I have no idea. But don’t spend a bunch! If we’re going to co-parent Felicia, I want to help financially as well.”

“Aw, boo, thanks. I’ll meet you back at yours in a couple of hours?” Wade asked with a besotted look on his face. 

Peter nodded and tucked himself and Felicia against Wade in a half hug. “Yeah, see you then.”

“Bye, Spider-Man. [Bye Felicia](https://youtu.be/bT90D0GKZRM).” He let out a little giggle. “That will _never_ get old.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter shook his head. “Wade, it was old literally the second I saw the idea cross your mind.”

——

Things with Peter settled into a nice routine. He was usually done teaching by the time Wade woke up, so they would go have coffee or get together for dinner, almost every day. Things were going slow, _physically_ , but Wade couldn't really blame Peter for that. _Who would want to mack on a burnt pizza face?_ he thought to himself after a date full of cuddling and holding hands. 

"Maybe he's old fashioned," Wade muttered to himself. 

"Maybe he's new to relationships and doesn't know what to do with a dude," Al shot back. 

"Did you— did you just read my mind? Are you really my mystical black woman?" Wade asked.

"You said everything out loud, dumbass," she answered as she walked past the couch where Wade was moping. 

Wade groaned. "It's the gross factor," he moaned. "Peter might like me for my sparkling personality and wit—" Al let out a loud snort— "but even _he's_ not immune to the grossness that is my face."

Al turned around to Wade. "Aw, honey, your face is fine," she said.

"Pfft, you've never even seen it, _blind_ Al."

"That's abelist, you piece of shit," she fired back. 

Wade let out a little hum while he thought. "OK, you're right, that was over the line. But I do stand by the point that you have in fact, never had the horrible privilege of looking at my [Phantom of the Opera](https://www.thephantomoftheopera.com/) face."

"Whatever," Al muttered as she walked out of the room, effectively ending their quasi-fight.

Even if Al was right, Wade was still self conscious the next night when he and Peter were watching more episodes of _Florida True Crime_ curled on Peter’s couch. This episode featured a man in a pirate costume shooting a musket off a bridge at on-coming traffic. 

“Heh, good luck taking out your enemies like that; reloading a musket is a bitch and a half,” Wade said with a smirk.

Peter’s head swiveled to Wade. “Why do you know things about taking out your enemies, Wade?”

Wade just wrinkled up his face and shrugged. “Pre-face-like-a-mashed-up-banana,” he explained.

Frowning-Peter was absolutely one of the cutest things Wade had ever seen. “Do you wanna talk about things before your accident? I’m fine if we don’t have a big heart-to-heart if it’s too much to talk about.”

Wade shook his head and slouched down. They were in Wade’s favorite cuddling position, Peter’s head on Wade’s shoulder, their hands entwined, and Felicia wedged between Wade's thigh and the arm of the couch. She had been purring steadily the whole time Wade had been there.

“Not much to tell, joined the military, side-note, my half of the soulmark is my old unit’s emblem, but yeah, signed up, went overseas, got partially blown up, lived to tell the tale. After that, I spent a couple of years doing things that wouldn’t make you proud, but then I had an assignment that sat wrong with me so I started turning more and more of them down. I still have most of the cash I earned, so Al and I get by….” he trailed off. “So yeah, not much to tell about me.” Wade felt his face heat up as he revealed his checkered past. He wasn’t proud of what he had done, but it brought him to _this_ moment with Peter so he couldn’t regret too much of his past.

“Tony said—”

“Petey-pie, did Iron Man run a background check on yours truly?” Wade wiggled a little and acted like he was clutching a pearl necklace. Peter just burrowed his face into Wade’s side and mumbled something. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t understand that,” he whispered back.

“Peter said, he asked Tony about your progress in the hospital after you nearly died,” Janet supplied. “Then later when Peter was obsessed—”

“Janet,” Peter hissed. “You don’t have to answer everything.”

Wade started laughing and pulled Peter up so they were face to face. “You were worried about me,” he said with a grin. “That’s sweet.” Peter looked nervous, eyes flitting from Wade’s forehead, to his lips, to his left ear. His tongue peeked out, licking at his top lip and Wade decided to shoot his shot. He leaned in and nuzzled Peter’s nose with his own, then closed the last few centimeters so they were kissing.

It was hesitant at first, neither of them doing much more than breathing the same air. Then Wade angled his head a little more and gently nipped at Peter’s bottom lip, causing him to let out a little exhalation of air. He licked at the spot he had bitten, and Peter groaned softly. Peter’s tongue came out to meet his and—

Peter pulled back and left Wade cold and alone, like he had jumped into a frozen lake.

Wade nodded and quickly stood up, dislodging Felicia and making her yowl. “OK, I’m sorry for pushing, Peter, I’ll just be on my way. Thanks for dinner, everything was great, I’m just going to go now.”

Peter sputtered in the background, but Wade couldn’t look at him after such a decisive rejection. Walking out of the apartment was one of the hardest things Wade had ever had to do, but he wasn’t going to push himself on Peter, soul mark or no. He couldn't blame Peter, looking in a mirror was still difficult for Wade, and he still saw so many people on the street recoil in horror when they caught a glimpse of his bare face.

His eyes were watering from _allergies, thank you very much_ as he jogged home in the cold. It was probably too long to go on foot, especially since he was still only a couple of months post-op, but Wade couldn’t be around people. His phone went off several times, but he ignored it. He didn’t want to see Peter’s gentle let down via text. Because that’s how it would be. _Gentle._ Peter was a nice guy, he wouldn’t be mean about the fact that Wade looked like he had gone through a [wood chipper](https://giphy.com/gifs/qMlv8TLX1i7Hq). But he still couldn’t listen to a rejection from his soulmate, no matter how kind Peter was about it.

Finally, Wade was home, breathing hard and sweating despite the cold. He collapsed on the couch, glad it was Al’s weekly Bingo night with the other retired assassins. His phone rang again and Wade threw it across the room.

“Wade,” Peter’s voice carried across the room. “I know you’re avoiding me. I’m sorry—”

“I didn’t pick up!” Wade said indignantly.

“Yeah." Peter let out a noise that was half sigh, half laugh. "I have _several_ apologies to make. Can I just tell you what I need to tell you, and then you can decide if you want me to leave you alone?”

“If you’re going to let me down gently and _it’s not you, it’s me_ me, I would really rather not have this conversation,” Wade said as he frowned.

“So, it _was_ me. And it had nothing to do with you as a person. It was more the fact that you’re a _guy_ —”

Wade moaned at that and scrubbed his face with his fists. “Thanks universe,” he gritted out, bitterly. “Thanks for a straight soulmate; just another fun trick to play on ol’ Wade Wilson.”

“Wade, would you shut up for a minute!” Peter’s voice was tight. “I’m bisexual!”

Wade’s eyebrows lifted at that. “So it _is_ because I’m the ugliest ugg who—”

“Wade, I swear to god, if you don’t let me say my piece, I _will_ have Janet stalk you until you listen to what I’m trying to fucking say.”

Wade grimaced. _Of course, Peter was able to get into his phone with the AI._ He shook his head. _Welp, time for a new start across the country._

“Wade, I freaked out because I’ve never been with a man! It was first time jitters, that’s all! And if you had stayed to listen to what I was trying to fucking say, you wouldn’t be feeling so goddamned sorry for yourself, you asshole!”

Letting out a little whistle ( _three_ swears from Peter in one sentence was the equivalent of Wade running stark naked through Times Square in terms of shock value). Wade _finally_ shut up. 

"So what you're saying is…" Well, he mostly shut up. But he did get up off the couch and went to pick up his phone from where he had just thrown it.

"I'm sorry, Wade. I'm so sorry I pulled back, I really like you. Even without the whole _soulmate_ thing, I think I would really like you. I know you're insecure about your skin, but that really doesn't matter to me except in how it affects you. But I'm insecure because I've only been with a couple of women and never in a long term relationship with any of them, and I'm _terrified_ because this makes me want long term with you and what if I'm just horrible at it?" He let out a long sigh and Wade really did stay quiet after Peter's tirade. He heard Peter let out a little laugh and then there was a tiny meow.

"Felicia misses her other dad, Wade. Will you come back so I can apologize in person? Watching you run out the door was so much worse than nervousness at being with a guy for the first time." Peter sniffled and Wade heard Felicia meow again.

Then in a small voice Peter said,"I can take care of her if you're done with me."

Wade couldn't stand hearing Peter like that. "I'll be there soon," he said as he started towards the door. "I'm still in my coat."

——

The trip back to Peter’s apartment took forever. Wade wasn’t running on autopilot so he was extra nervous on the way back. Yes, the apologies were nice; _yes,_ he trusted Peter when he said his split-second rejection was nerves and not actually an actual rejection. But he was still nervous. 

However when he walked into the room, the look on Peter’s face took all the nerves away.

“Wade, you jackass!” Peter exclaimed with a huge grin. “Thank you for coming back.” He walked over to Wade and wrapped him in a big hug. “Can we plan our freak-outs so that only one of us has one at a time?”

Wade laughed a little. He rubbed his face in Peter’s hair. “As far as overreacting, that was pretty tame for me, Petey.”

Peter laughed back at him. “Well, then we’re definitely keeping up with them so we'll always have one of us with a clear head.”

Wade felt something stab his shin and looked down to see Felicia climbing up his leg. “Hey there, little baby,” he cooed at her. 

“I told you she missed you!” Peter said indignantly. Wade bent over to scoop her up and she started her little purr. 

"So can we start this bit over?" Wade asked with an answering smile. 

Peter lifted up on his toes and kissed Wade, no hesitation, no pulling back, a firm kiss, right on the mouth. Felicia got upset with being smooshed between the two men and clawed Wade in the chest. He let her down and let Peter push him against the couch. 

Wade flailed a bit when his calves hit the seat cushion and decided to let gravity do its thing. He plopped down and to his shock, Peter followed, straddling Wade's lap.

"Uh, baby boy, our bits are in very close proximity, yeah? And I'm not saying I won't stop, because obviously I will, but like, do you realize—"

"Yeah, shut up, Wade," Peter said right before he leaned in to capture Wade's mouth again.

 _I guess he did get over the whole overreacting thing,_ he thought as Peter's tongue traced Wade's lips. _Huh, maybe I'm not so gro—_

Wade's brain went a little 404 when Peter's tongue met his own. After that, all he could do was _feel_. He sighed as Peter's tongue massaged his own. Peter tasted like toothpaste, and Wade had the fleeting thought that he should have brushed _his_ teeth before they started making out.

But then Peter swiveled his hips and Wade doubled down on kissing. He kissed and licked at Peter's mouth before moving to his neck and doing the same thing. He pulled Peter's shirt over a little and nipped at his collar bone, then moved up, making a curve of light pink bite marks up to Peter's ear. Peter moaned and wiggled on Wade, making him hiss when his half hard cock was massaged by Peter's cheeks. Reaching up, Wade ran his hands through Peter's hair, reveling in the silky mess. 

Peter, for his part, had _really_ committed to the whole _first time with another dude_ because Wade could feel _his_ dick hard against his stomach. Wade was intent on making this good so he moved his mouth to Peter's lobe and started licking and biting it gently. He started a slow thrust up, teasing himself on Peter's tight, superhero ass. Peter met him on each thrust with a little hip swivel. They did their dirty grind for a few moments until Peter abruptly stopped.

"Pants _off_ ," Peter instructed as he clambered off Wade's lap. Wade just nodded and lifted up his hips so he could pull his jeans off and kicked his shoes across the room. Peter was staring at Wade, eyes dark, as he shimmied out of his lounge pants. "Do you mind if we keep our undies on?" he asked softly.

Wade, who was falling more and more for demanding, yet shy Peter, nodded his head frantically. "Whatever you want, Petey-pie. We can put on HAZMAT suits if it makes you comfortable."

Peter laughed and climbed back into Wade's lap. "I don't think we need to go that far," he responded. "I'm still not sure about my absolute limits, but you feel really good under me."

"Ugnh," was all Wade could articulate.

Peter leaned down and quickly licked Wade's upper lip, which tickled a little, but then he captured Wade's lower lip with his teeth. He nibbled there for a few seconds and Wade was fully hard. Between Peter's trust giving him a brain boner, and Peter's body giving him a regular boner, Wade figured he could probably die any moment and have lived his best life. Wade's eyes rolled back in his head as Peter started a maddening swivel of his hips. He started nibbling on Wade's ear, and Wade let out a gasp. Every part of him was tingly in the best way. His cheeks were hot, his dick _ached_ , his legs were starting to burn from his seated thrusts, his feet felt weird in his socks. OK, so maybe not _every_ part of him felt sexy. But the majority of Wade felt phenomenal plastered to his soulmate.

"Feel good?" Peter murmured. Wade nodded again. "Do you want to make me feel good too?"

"Fuck yeah," Wade said in a raspy voice. Peter gave him a long look and stood up, reaching his hand down to pull Wade up. Then he lowered himself onto the couch, laying on it with his legs spread. Wade took a few seconds to ogle him. From his mussed hair, down his lean, muscular torso, pausing to stare at his tented boxers, to his strong legs; Wade had never seen anything so beautiful. Except…

"Peter, are you wearing one Iron-Man sock and one War Machine sock? Do you ship Iron Husbands?"

Rolling his eyes, Peter lifted his head up. " _This_ is what you're going to focus on right now?"

Wade shook his head to clear it. "Yeah, no. Good point." Peter laid his head down again and Wade awkwardly climbed on top, resting between his thighs. "Do you uh—"

Peter cut him off with another kiss, his mouth hot against Wade's. They kissed until Wade's lips felt hot and chapped, while their hips gently thrust against each other. Finally, after [127 hours](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/127_Hours), or possibly a minute and a half, their cocks lined up _just_ right. Wade groaned into Peter's mouth and Peter pulled away, with a devilish look in his eyes.

"Race you to the finish?" he asked with a pointed hip thrust. Wade dropped his head down to Peter's shoulder and started nibbling. 

"Baby boy, it has been a long fucking time since I've been with anyone. I'm surprised I haven't already shot my load."

"Same," Peter commiserated. He wrapped his legs around Wade's hips, and they both moaned as they got _soclose_. Peter used his Spidey muscles to pull his hips up, off the couch, and rubbed his length against Wade's. 

The slide, through the cotton, with a slight dampness from sweat and precome, was divine. Peter's hot, tight body, writhing against Wade, was the stuff of Oscar winning wet dreams. Wade decided he should give it his all, so he started moving his hips in counterpoint. Wade groaned as sparks lit him up from his crotch to his head. He shivered a little from the sensation.

Peter started making little grunting noises as he thrust and, after a handful, he stilled and exhaled harshly. His face screwed up into a grimace while his hips stuttered and Wade felt his boxers go hot and wet from Peter's release. Wade felt Peter's legs go slack as he slid off Wade's hips, bonelessly onto the couch cushions. 

"Keep going," Peter slurred in a wrecked voice. "Wanna see your face."

And that was all she wrote for Wade. Just that smidgen of dirty talk was enough to push him over the edge. He gasped as he clenched his eyes shut so hard he saw pinpricks of light behind his eyelids. His cock _shuddered_ as he came, his whole body on fire. After an eternity, he finished and started to fall on Peter. At the last possible minute, he caught himself on his elbows. His breath mingled with Peter's, creating a little pocket of hot, sweaty, sex air. 

Peter tapped Wade on the side after a few breaths and Wade rolled up until he was sitting, Peter following right after. They sat on the couch, in come stained boxers, silent until Peter started to giggle. He pointed at the end of the couch where Felicia was curled up in a ball. "Did our cat just watch us fuck?" he gasped out between giggles.

"Squee! _Our cat_!!!" Wade looked over at her, in a perfectly round circle. "No, Petey, I think she slept through it all."

——

After Peter had come from humping Wade (because it was totally dry humping and Peter was old enough to not be embarrassed by what felt good), and they were both seated on the couch. Peter reached out to grab Wade's hand and rested his head on Wade's shoulder. He let out a little sigh.

"Regretting anything, baby boy?" Wade asked quietly.

"Nah," Peter mumbled. "Not this anyway. I'm just sorry—"

"We just had this conversation," Wade countered as he gently squeezed Peter's hand. "It was just a misunderstanding. The first of many, I'm sure. All relationships have ups and downs, high points and low. What matters is what we do after the hurt feelings." He paused for a second and started talking in a weird accent. "Remember: [no pain, no gain](https://youtu.be/cTBZa-tXGtw?t=44)! No sock, no shoes! No hair, no haircut!"

Peter gave him his best side eye. "OK, guy, whatever you say." Wiggling around, his boxers felt _nasty_. Peter decided he needed a shower. "Um, so if you want to get clean, I have a decent shower and I can loan you some clothes, they will uh, probably be too short, but your pants are actually OK, I guess it should just really be boxers and we're probably similar waist sizes," he rambled. Wade turned and smiled at him. "And I've got the toothbrushes the dentist always gives out, so you can brush your teeth. I don't know if you need to shave, but I've got all of that too and just whatever you need! I can have Tony send something over if I don't have it; I don't like to take advantage, but for you, I'll be happy! Just please tell me what you need."

"I mean, I can take the train home commando, no big deal. I can get out of your hair, P—"

"That's the exact _opposite_ of what I want!" Peter might have been shrieking, slightly. "Stay as long as you want! My sheets are clean and I have plenty of food in the fridge!" Pausing, he smacked himself in the face. "Just, whatever you want, Wade," he said after taking a few deep breaths. "I'm happy to have you here as long as you're comfortable."

Wade let out a little laugh. "Are you always this awkward after sex?"

He nodded and shot Wade a pair of finger guns then groaned. "I'm just gonna go die now, OK?" he squeaked out.

Peter wasn't expecting the pure, beautiful laughter that came from Wade. It was like it came from his very soul and Peter felt his heart leap knowing that he had made his _soulmate_ so happy. After almost a full minute of laughing, Wade finally started to calm down. 

"Peter." Wade paused to laugh again. "You're like a baby giraffe! It's this the real you? Somebody who fakes adulting better than anyone else? How did you manage to get a job that requires you to speak in front of people every day?"

Peter glared at him. "It's different when it's science! Feelings are a lot harder to manage!" he insisted. In a very grown-up manner.

Wade put his hands up in mock surrender. "Fair," he conceded. "So you were talking about cleaning up and clean sheets? Were you thinking I could stay?"

Peter nodded. "I'm gonna go hop in the shower before I get too stuck to my boxers. Are you OK with showering second? I can shower after you if you want."

"Sure, baby boy. I don't mind waiting with Felicia until you're squeaky clean. And if you're sure, I would love to stay the night."

Peter stood up and nodded several times. " _Please_ stay," he pleaded.

"Then go shower, stinky." 

Peter scoffed a little. He wasn't stinky! ... Probably. He grabbed some clean things from his dresser and started towards the bathroom when heard Wade ask Felicia "Are you a [Jelicle](https://youtu.be/FtSd844cI7U) cat?" He rolled his eyes and shut the door, not wanting to know the answer.

——

After Peter was clean and Wade did whatever in the bathroom (Peter heard the shower run for like 30 seconds, stop, and then run for another 30 seconds before the toilet flushed) he felt a little shy with Wade. Clearly noticing that, Wade pulled him into a hug. "Let's just do what feels right, when it feels right, OK?"

Smiling, Peter led Wade to his bed.

"Your sheets _are_ clean!" Wade cried with obvious glee. Peter blushed and climbed on the bed and Wade followed.

"It's late," Wade said with a yawn. "When do you need to wake up?" He scooted over so he was spooning Peter.

"Janet, will you cancel all of my classes tomorrow?"

"Sure, Peter," the AI answered.

"Let's sleep in," Wade mumbled.

Peter reached back to hug Wade. "Night," he whispered.

"Nnnnnght," Wade answered.

As they lay there, Peter's mind wouldn't slow down. He thought about how much his life had changed since his birthday. He had a partner, a boyfriend, a _soulmate_. And Wade was funny and kind; he could make Peter smile with a quirk of his eyebrow. Wade was smarter than he gave himself credit for and he had the patience of a saint. Well, as far as Peter was concerned he was patient; he didn't extend that same courtesy to himself.

Peter mused on Wade’s insecurities and how quickly he jumped to criticize himself. He knew Wade regretted some of the things he had done in the past, but he was more than making up for it with his charity work and giving back to the community in any possible way. He wished Wade could see him through his eyes, how he was to Peter; imperfect but _good_.

Rolling over, Peter pulled Wade into his arms and placed a small kiss on his temple. “You’re a good man, Wade Wilson,” he whispered. Peter heard Felicia climb up the bed and smiled as she curled up on Wade’s pillow, by his head. 

Snuggling with Wade seemed to be the thing that made Peter’s brain slow down. He let out a soft laugh as Wade snorted and wiggled until he got Wade into a comfortable position, and Peter could hear Felicia purring. Peter let his eyes close and drifted off, surrounded by Wade, wondering where their lives would take them; happy that they would be doing it all together.


	5. Everything is better when we stick together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of porn. _As a treat_

After about six weeks of dating, Peter gave Wade a key to his apartment. The conversation had been along the lines of _you’re here all the time anyway, and if I’m patrolling and you’re crashing on my couch, I don’t have to worry about you as much._ Wade had shrugged and bought the biggest Spider-man keychain he could find for his key. Peter grumbled, but his cheeks were pink so Wade counted it as a win. They had done the whole meeting each other’s friends dog and pony show and usually a few nights a week, Wade had someone to hang out with while Peter patrolled. He really liked all of the _spider gang_ , but his favorite people were Miles and MJ; Miles because he was so nice and MJ because she could be as big a shit as Wade. So yes, things were going well for Wade and his arachnid soulmate.

In fact, he was at Peter’s enough for Al to start grumbling about them just moving in together because she didn’t need a baby-sitter. Which, she wasn’t wrong, Wade _did_ spend most nights at Peter’s, but he wasn’t sure about leaving Al alone 24/7. He tried to balance his days with Al even if he spent the nights with Peter. Because, sure the sex was great, but the biggest draw was far more sappy and innocent: falling asleep with Peter was a luxury Wade never thought he would have. They rarely woke up at the same time since Peter had an actual job and Wade volunteered when the urge hit him, but Wade was starting to think about giving his life more of a structure now that he had a _gentleman friend_. Waking up in Peter’s arms was better than sleeping until noon.

Wade rolled over to find Peter looking at him on a random Monday. “No class?” he croaked.

Peter gave him a fond smile. “It’s a holiday, no school.” He leaned in to give Wade a soft kiss. “Figured we could fool around while you’re still sleep stupid.”

Wade frowned. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “But, also, yes,” he admitted. He kissed Peter back, slipping him a little tongue. Peter smiled into the kiss as Wade nipped at his lip. Peter groaned and started rubbing his morning wood against Wade’s hip. “Watcha feel like doing, Petey?”

Peter continued to lazily hump Wade. His eyes went _nasty_. Wade had seen most of Peter’s moods since they had gotten together and _nasty_ was the only way to describe this one. Wade’s dick went from _interested_ to _if you blow this for us, I will never forgive you._

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for like half an hour, Wade. I wanna get you in my mouth. Maybe finger you if you feel up to it.”

Wade let out a baby pterodactyl screech. _Internally_. But like only half of it, the other half of the screech escaped his lips as he said, “Let me go clean up!” He scrambled out of the bed, into the bathroom, did as much as he could with the wipes they had for this very reason, and ran back to get into bed with Peter. 

Peter was on his back with his hand down his pajama pants, rubbing himself and Wade collapsed on the bed. “Peter, I’m glad I don’t have a bad heart because, baby, you’re about to give me a fucking heart attack.”

Smirking, Peter kept stroking himself under his pants. “I’ll fuck you into a heart attack,” he responded.

“Peter!” Wade shrieked. “You’re so _filthy_ this morning. What happened to my sweet, bumbling, awkward boy?”

Peter stopped what he was doing and looked at Wade. Concerned he asked, “Do you not like it? I’m sorry, I was _trying_ —”

Interrupting with a quick, “No, please don’t stop,” Wade leaned in to kiss Peter again. An insecure Peter was _not_ what Wade wanted. “Just took me by surprise ‘s all.”

Peter giggled as he kissed Wade back. “MJ showed me some [sites](https://archiveofourown.org/),” he admitted as they kissed. “Had some good stuff.”

Wade shoved his tongue in Peter’s mouth, but in a _seductive_ way and mumbled, “Clearly.”

Peter, barely using any of his Spidey-strength, pushed Wade onto his back and climbed up to straddle him. He leaned down to keep kissing Wade and ran his hands up Wade’s torso until he could pinch his nipples. Wade let out a hiss and involuntary thrust up into Peter, but Peter just rode it out. 

_Little Wade_ enjoyed the feeling of Peter riding him and _Big Wade_ shivered in delight. Leaning down, Peter whispered, “Can’t wait to make you fall apart,” Wade took in his crooked smile, the faint blush on his cheeks, the way he was still writhing on top of Wade and [fell unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/411650-about-3-things-i-was-absolutely-positive-first-edward-was). _Those books are so bad, but R-Pat is somehow the most perfect choice for Batman in the year 2020_ , Wade’s brain commented. 

“Why are we thinking about Twilight and Robert Pattinson?” he whispered to himself. Peter gave him a little frown.

“I’ll get your mind on something else,” he said as he slid down Wade’s body until he was crouched in-between Wade’s thighs. Wade nodded. Enthusiastically. _Not thinking about poorly written romance books was preferable to thinking about them at this very moment._

Peter started licking Wade’s hipbones and when he bit down, _hard_ , Wade let out a gasp. _Oh yeah,_ his mind said. _[It’s all coming together](https://giphy.com/gifs/jesseling-kronk-emperors-new-groove-its-all-coming-together-KEYEpIngcmXlHetDqz)._ Wade shifted restlessly, his cock wanting friction but not finding any. He groaned as Peter’s hair, messy as usual, brushed against him; too soft to be anything more than a tease. Peter ignored Wade’s grumbling and kept licking up Wade’s hipbone until he was at his naval, Wade’s erection poking him in the neck. 

“Um, Peter,” Wade started, “don’t wanna tell you how to do your thing but— _ohmygod_ ,” he gasped out when Peter started sucking on his tip. Wade lifted his head so he could look down at Peter. “Sorry,” he said weakly. “Whatever you wanna do, baby boy.”

What Peter wanted to do was apparently give Wade the slowest, sloppiest, wettest blow job of his life. Wade clenched his fist as Peter sucked him down and lazily bobbed his head. Wade’s brain could only comprehend _hot_ and _wet_ and _Peter_. His eyes were clenched shut as tightly as his fists. He didn’t see Peter lube up a finger, but he sure _felt_ it when Peter tapped out a rhythm at his rim.

“Yes, please,” he whispered. Peter hummed while sucking Wade off, and Wade dug his nails into his palms to keep from going off just like that. He groaned as Peter moved from gentle to intense suction around Wade’s dick and carefully slid part of his finger into Wade.

“ _Unf,_ ” Wade articulated. “So good, Peter.”

Peter hummed again and wiggled his finger in more until he was gently brushing Wade’s prostate. Wade felt like he was on fire. His dick _throbbed_ , his ass was practically quivering around Peter’s finger, his toes were curled, he couldn’t remember a time when he felt as good as this moment. Having it be _Peter_ making him feel good was what ultimately pushed him over the edge. He moved his hand to pet Peter’s hair and gasped out, “Now. Gonna." 

Wade saw sparks behind his eyes, a moan was wrenched from his very soul, and he felt sparks from his fingertips to his toes as he spilled his release into Peter’s welcoming mouth. Panting, he opened his eyes to look at a smiling Peter. 

“That was successful,” Peter said and Wade could only nod. 

“Give me a few minutes to catch my breath,” Wade replied. “Gonna make you feel so good too.” 

Peter moved up until he could cuddle with Wade. He nuzzled into Wade’s neck, kissing him where his neck and shoulder met while his erection was hot against Wade’s hip. After a few deep breaths, Wade turned so he could return Peter’s kisses.

“Fuck my face, Spidey,” he whispered.

Peter pulled back with big eyes. “Now who’s talking dirty?” he asked. But he didn’t waste any time pulling off his boxers and letting Wade guide him up until he was sitting on Wade’s chest. Wade mouthed at the tip of his cock and grabbed his ass. He started Peter in a slow rhythm, content with the weight of Peter on his chest and the hot length of him in his mouth. 

After a minute of _gentle_ thrusts, Wade gave Peter a little slap on his ass to let him know he could go faster. “You sure?” Peter asked and Wade did his best to nod around his dick. Peter still looked unsure, so Wade moved his arms to shoot Peter some finger guns. Peter rolled his eyes, but picked up his rhythm nonetheless. 

Moving his hands back to Peter’s ass, Wade started kneading the muscles there, _superhero muscles_ his brain reminded him. He focused on breathing through his nose as he urged Peter to go deeper, faster. He took Peter down and wished he was still in his late teens so he could go again cause having Peter hump his face was so _fucking_ hot. 

Peter’s thrusts were getting more erratic and Wade slid a finger in so he could rub, teasingly, at Peter’s rim. Breath choppy, Peter suddenly froze over Wade and let out a harsh huff of air as he came in Wade’s mouth. 

When he was done, he rolled off Wade’s chest. He kept his legs tangled with Wade’s as he caught his breath. “That was so good, Wade,” he whispered. Wade winked and nodded.

“Can I tell you something?” Wade whispered back.

“Sure,” Peter answered and kissed Wade on the cheek.

Wade started singing, " _Never been in love before._ " He stopped singing for a second to poke Peter with his finger. " _What the fuck are feelings yo?_ "

Peter rolled his eyes, but smiled.

Wade just smiled back at him, the love of his life, his _soulmate_ , but more importantly his _Peter._

" _Once upon a time, I was a ho. I don’t even wanna ho no mo’. Got you something from the liquor store,_ " he continued.

"Wade?" Peter sounded concerned. "What does that mean? What did you get me at the liquor store? You know I don’t drink much anymore because I’m getting older and I don’t want you to feel bad about only having leftie.”

Winking again, Wade leaned in to kiss him. Then belted out, _”I’m cryin’[cause I LOOOOOOOVE YOUUUUUUUU](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NqjPqsry7no).”_

Peter rolled his eyes and let out a fond laugh. “I love you too, you absolute loon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, I'm [on Tumblr](https://pineau-noir.tumblr.com). Much like Wade's mind, there's literally no organization, just pure stream-of-consciousness reblogging with a hint of original content.


End file.
